#today and a few other times it was about not wanting to talk about a topic they don’t like

[nyankochan]

Unwrap Me

Synopsis: you and Leona visit his family for the holidays. You prepared a special gift for him but can’t quite give it in front of his relatives

Content: Leona x fem!reader, afab!reader, reader implied to be Leona’s finance, oral (male and female receiving), dirty talk, penetration, rough sex, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple rounds, breeding kink

w/c: 3K

A/n: todays my birthday (*^_^*) and it’s also Christmas so as a gift, Leona Kingscholar. A happy holidays to everyone

Just one week.

Seven days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds.

That was how long Leona had to put up with his family for the holidays. That was it. One short week. If he kept repeating that to himself, then perhaps being around his extended family would be manageable.

As long as he knew there was a deadline, he could tolerate Cheka’s begging to bake Christmas cookies and his brother’s pestering about him coming home more often. He could put up with his sister-in-law’s insistence on the family taking updated photos in coordinated pajamas and Neji’s nagging about whatever he chose to complain about Leona not doing right at the moment.

He could handle it.

That’s what he told himself. But after the first forty-eight hours, Leona’s patience already began to wane.

Usually, Leona would hover close to you, using your proximity as an excuse to avoid interacting with his family. But of course, they, for some reason, all seemed to hog your attention from the moment you arrived at the Afterglow Savannah. Cheka wanted to decorate the tree with you. His sister-in-law took you away with his mother to talk wedding details and planing Leona didn’t quite care to participate in. The only time he got to see you was at dinner, because often times, you’d either come back to your room late or he’d find you already asleep.

The final straw was Christmas Eve. Leona had hoped for some time alone with you only for you to get swept away by Farena to help wrap gifts. It was well after 1am by the time you came to bed due to the sheer number of gifts he had bought Cheka.

At that point, damn Christmas and damn the gifts. All Leona wanted at this point was you and a moment of alone time before he went mad from having to watch another corny Christmas movie or pretend to like his sister-in-law’s awful cooking.

“Leona, don’t be such a grinch, smile a little. It’s Christmas!” Farena chided, making the younger Kingscholar roll his eyes. It was finally Christmas Day, and of course, Cheka woke everyone up with his excited yells at five in the morning. Needless to say, Leona was less than thrilled about having his sleep interrupted because “Santa came.”

“Be grateful I’m even here,” Leona muttered under his breath.

The family gathered in the living room, the adults sleepily making their ways in with coffee in hand and an excited five year old at the center of it all. Leona sat on the far end of the couch, immediately closing his eyes and trying to ignore Cheka’s questions about which gifts he could open first. Dressed in your robe, You plop down beside him and lean against his shoulder. You look exhausted, but hide it well with a smile.

For the next couple hours, everyone opens their own gifts. You got a few nice things from your wishlist, Leona gifting you the most expensive (despite your protests) being a new set of headphones you were eyeing. And he was quite pleased with one of your gifts to him, new spell drive equipment, among other things he received from his brother, parents, and Neji.

“Oh, Leona, I got one more gift for you,” you whisper. There’s a cheeky smile on your face as you reach into your robe’s pocket and pull out a small wrapped black box.

“Huh?” Leona’s ears twitched in slight annoyance. “We only agreed to do one gift this year.”

“I know but you’ll really like this one. But it’s for your eyes only. M’kay?” You kiss his cheek when you’re called by Farena’s wife to help make breakfast. After giving one last wink to Leona you skip off.

Confused yet curious as to what you had planned, he undoes the silk red ribbon holding the box together. Carefully, Leona lifts the lid. There’s nothing but a bunch of tissue paper inside. He pulls the paper out and at the bottom of the box is a small piece of the same red ribbon and a photo. Upon seeing what the picture is actually of, Leona immediately closes the box back before anyone else could accidentally see what was meant clearly for his eyes only.

“That little…ha…” Leona sighs, a grin spreading across his face.

He definitely wasn’t expecting that. But he surely was going to enjoy every bit of this gift. And if Cheka was allowed to be impatient, waking everyone up at the ass crack of dawn to open gifts, then Leona felt justified to do the same. He wanted to unwrap the rest of his gift now.

In the kitchen, you were helping the women make breakfast. You half paid attention to their conversations, mind drifting to Leona and what he thought of your little gift. You were quite excited and wished you could’ve seen his instant reaction to the surprise you had left in the box.

“Oi, Leona, if you’re not going to help in here then get out,” Farena’s wife scolded. You look up from what you were mixing to see your fiancé who has quite an unreadable expression on his face. But the intense look in his emerald eyes told you all you needed to know.

He opened your gift.

And you were in for it.

“I need to borrow Y/n,” Leona said, pushing past the lioness to you. “I’ll bring her right back. I forgot to have her open up one more gift from me.”

“What! Wait-“

“Just let them go,” Leona’s mom chuckles. She gives you a knowing wink, shooing you two away.

“But-“ Farena’s wife begins to protest.

Leona ignores her, grabs you by the arm, and drags you out the kitchen quickly. His pace is fast as he walks through the hall with a clear destination in mind. You can’t help but giggle, antsy excitement coursing through your veins. The two of you arrive at your shared room and he immediately locks the door.

“Leo~I was busy helping,” you feign innocence. “It was rude to interrupt.”

“I don’t care,” Leona said , taking a step closer to you. “Your little note was cute. Expecting me to wait until tonight for my gift?”

“Patience is a virtue you know.”

“And I don’t recall ever claiming to be a patient or virtuous man.” He takes a seat on the bed, spreading his legs slightly. Like a king on his throne. “Take it off.”

You undo the tie around your robe, letting the fabric slide down your shoulders slowly. Leona’s eyes seemed to dilate as he took in the attire you wore underneath: A sheer red baby doll. White lacy under garments and stockings with red bow detailing everywhere.

“You’re such a vixen wearing that underneath while around my family,” Leona lets out a shaky breath as he pulls you closer to him. “You did this on purpose, did ya?”

“Mhm maybe,” you tease, shivering as his thumb traces across your hips. “To be fair, not being able to see was equally annoying on my part. You don’t know how many boring meetings I had to have with your mother about flower arrangements and table decor. But she should get the others to leave us alone for a few hours.”

“Yeah? And how’d you convince her to do that?”

Your grin is wicked. “I might’ve promised her a new grand baby if I could have you to myself on Christmas.”

Leona’s eyes widened briefly before a smirk settled on his face. He could feel his cock stir within his pants. “Well, then, I guess we should deliver.” Leona pulls you into his lap, smashing his lips against yours in a frivolous and desperate kiss. He groans against your mouth as your hips rock against his, intense heat blossoming between the two of you. “You know,” Leona mumbles, “you’re almost too pretty to unwrap. I could admire this gift for hours.”

“I thought you were impatient,” you pant. Leona’s hands tightened around your waist. His teeth graze across your neck making you shiver.

“I am. But I still want to admire my beautiful fiancé.”

“B-but this gift was for you.” you whimper out as Leona nips at your neck, squeezing your breast through the bralette. “So let me admire you too.”

You slide out of Leona’s lap to kneel between his legs. His thighs tense as you trace your delicate hands up them to the drawstring of his pajama pants. The crotch bulges, the fabric held high by his erection. He groans when you grope him.

“Don’t tease me,” Leona warns. “Otherwise I’ll make you regret it.”

“So impatient,” you laugh, pulling his cock out of the confines of his boxers.

Leona lets out a shaky moan as your mouth envelops around the swollen head of his cock. You immediately take him deep, tears springing against your eyelashes as you begin to suck. “Fuck don’t stop,” Leona groans. His fingers tangle themselves in your hair, grabbing a fistful of it. His hips jerk up. Your tongue tracing the sensitive vein on his shaft. “Fuck. I’m gonna move you. Let me know if it’s too much.”

“Mhm.”

His other hand grips your head. He then roughly thrusts up while simultaneously forcing your head down his length. You whimper as you begin to gag. Tears trickle down your cheeks as Leona continues to fuck your mouth, his low grunts turning into quick pants. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like this. Gonna swallow all of me okay?”

Leona’s eyes scrunch shut as he comes down your throat. He lets out a shaky moan, keeping a tight hold on your head so you can’t pull away. Your body trembles. Your eyes roll back as the lightheaded feeling makes you dizzy.

“Swallow,” Leona commands. And you do, opening your mouth to show you had. “Heh. Come here.”

His hands settle on your waist as he takes in your lingerie. His gaze a mix of adoration and lust that leaves you feeling bashful under the heat of his stare. “So fucking pretty.” Your cheeks warm and you stare at the floor, making him chuckle. “Why so shy now? You were quite bold earlier leaving that photo in that box with your cute little note. What did it say again?”

You climb back into his lap. Your breath hitches as his cock brushes against your clothed clit. Your panties soaked and needy, desperately wanting Leona in your most intimate region. “I don’t remember,” you tease. “Maybe remind me?”

Leona grins. His hands are soft against your skin. “I think it said something like…hurry up. And what else? Your pretty pussy is waiting to be unwrapped?”

“Hm that sounds about right. So then-“ You rock your hips against Leona’s. “What are you still waiting for?”

His mouth is on yours again, sucking all the remaining air out of your lungs. The two of you tumble into the bed, tearing at each other’s clothes until there’s nothing separating the two of you except your lacy panties. Leona has you pinned underneath him. He traces down your jaw and the side of your neck, biting down on the sensitive spot near your clavicle.

“Since your pretty pussy was wrapped up so nicely for me, it is only fair if I have a little taste, no?”

Leona settles in between your legs, pressing his nose against your cunt to inhale your intoxicating smell. He suppresses a groan. Your scent alone was addicting. It was like he was drunk on you, and he couldn’t think about anything but the way you’d feel around his cock. But first-

He pulls down your panties with his teeth. Dragging the thin fabric around the curve of your plush thighs before dropping them on the floor. Your folds are glistening with your arousal, pretty and puffy. And all his.

With a tight grip on your thighs, Leona takes a lick at your core, pressing his rough tongue against your pussy’s lips. The first wave of pleasure shoots through you which has you trembling. “You taste so good,” Leona groans. He eats you out greedily, tongue moving in and out of your folds.

“Fuck Leona!” Your back arches off the bed as Leona nips at your clit. He buries his face deeper in between your thighs, bringing you to the brink of release. Your body tries to writhe away from him, but his grip keeps you pinned down. You come with a low cry, Leona’s name on your tongue.

Leona drinks you down. His cock is now painfully stiff against his abdomen. All just from the addicting taste of your arousal. He stifles a groan, wrapping his hand around his shaft. He was so hard it fucking hurt.

“I’m going to fuck you in every way possible,” Leona says, licking his lips clean. The tip of his cock prods at your wet entrance. He grips your hips, trying to ease himself in. “I’m going to pump you so full of my cum that there’s no way you won’t leave this room without getting pregnant. After all, you were the one that went behind my back and promised my mother a grand kid.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to whisper, “then you better get to it.”

Leona growls. He pushes into your cunt, groaning at how you squeeze around him. His head drops to your shoulder as his body trembles as a wave of pleasure courses through him. A low curse leaves his lips.

“L-Leo? Y-you okay?” You whimper.

“Just give me a minute.” He kisses you, softly this time. “I’m trying to control myself so that I don’t hurt you.”

“It’s okay. You can be a little rough.”

Leona’s ears twitch. He could feel his dick throb at your words. You groan as his size seems to swell.

“Heh, you asked for it.” Leona folds your legs to your chest making you gasp. “Don’t go begging me to stop later. Because I’m not until you’re carrying my cubs.”

“Please fuck me, Leona,” you mewl.

Rolling his hips, Leona pulled his cock from your hole and with a sharp snap, drove himself back into you. The sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. The two of you let out low moans.

Your body shuddered slightly anticipation. You clung to Leona and dug your nails in his shoulders trying to keep him close. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that took your breath away.

“A-ah L-leona t-too much,” you babble. Leona growls, pushing your legs closer, burying his cock even deeper. “Leona!”

“I told you-“ Leona grunts, continuing his brutal pace. “You asked for it. You wanted it rough.” His cock kisses that particular sweet spot, making your insides tense. You cry out as your orgasm leaves you seeing stars. Your legs shake over his shoulder, and a tight pressure coils within your stomach.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so much,” Leona groaned. “You like when I pound into you like this, don’t ya? Your pussy’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.” Your nails rake into his back, leaving bright red marks. You clamp down on his shoulder, biting so hard you broke the skin. Leona lets out a low hiss. “I’m gonna come-“

A loud moan left his lips. His hips stilled and his release hit. You shivered feeling yourself be filled while your own orgasm hit, this time with more intensity. Leona slowly pulled out and sat back on his heels. His seed leaks from your swollen sex on to the bed sheets. You let out a quiet whimper and push your fingers into your cunt, trying to stop it from spilling out. Once more, his cock stirs, the carnal desire within him burning.

“Are you okay?” Leona swallows, trying to maintain a sense of control. You sleepily nod. “Good.”

You squeak as you’re suddenly and roughly manhandled. Leona flips you on to your hands and knees, shoving your face into the pillows. “L-Leona-“

“Sorry, kitten-“ You gasp as he enters once more, his thick cock stretching your walls until you feel so full of him. Leona squeezes your hips, pushing his cock deeper. “but I want to enjoy my gift a little longer.”

~*~

You and Leona had been gone for hours.

Breakfast passes without your presence. And needless to say, neither Farena nor Neji are pleased. It is only due to Farena’s mother’s insistence that the two don’t venture off to look for the missing family members.

“Just leave them be,” the older lioness would dismiss.

“But mother, Leona-“ Farena huffed.

“It’s fine. They’re probably busy with wedding stuff. Some things they need to figure out on their own as a couple.”

You and Leona don’t emerge until right before dinner, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Like you hadn’t snuck off to fuck for a couple hours.

“Auntie Y/n!” Cheka excitedly runs over to you. You bend down, despite the ache in your hips and lower back to catch his hug. Cheka gives you an odd look as you pick him up. He looks at you then to Leona, back to you and then his uncle. It’s like he’s searching for something and when he doesn’t find it, he sulks in disappointment.

“Whatcha looking for Cheka?” Farena asks.

“Auntie said she and Leona would give me a cousin for Christmas, but I don’t see them.” The cub continues to pout.

Immediately, your face explodes red, and Leona rubs his temple in annoyance. The situation doesn’t improve as now the attention is on the two of you and what you were most likely doing in your absence. Leona and Farena’s mother only laughs in amusement. She spent the last several hours covering for you, so if you didn’t have a grandchild for her in the next nine months she’d be highly disappointed.

[thekaratcake-blog]

I said I can't be bothere to check the others, but lets start real easily, non hebrew slaves are to be kept, owned as property and passed down to your children, it is explicit about it, to use hebrew salves to go "see look man" isn't very useful, also no it is the word of god, that part is directly after the ten commandments, this isn't going "slavery exists" this is god explaining how to do so and also mentions that women aren't to go free ever and are to be kept at property, it does not record it, it is demanding it, and the "slave's bible" was a real thing given to slaves to keep them in line, as well as christianity and places like exodus 21 being used to explicitly justify and prolong slavery, it's a nice apologetic "oh it was only a thing at the time" "oh it was only servants" no, it was instructions, that was incredibly clear, it was used so and understood to be and still is be scholars today, however now that we understand that it's wrong, people are backpedalling, but prey tell where it says that slavery is wrong?

Also yeah so the god who condemns eating shellfish and homosexuality is going to be fine with slavery in his book and at no point say to stop that? Those werne't things of the time but slavery is? Why exactly would god not condemn it if he saw it as morally evil? Again, the non hebrew slave was not treated the same, was considered property, wasn't afforded the protections, I wonder why only those of the religion the book teaches about are protected? Practices in exodus 21 didn't limit slavery, only slavery for hebrew slaves, which the african americans weren't counted as, a lot of the laws infact for slaves and the way they were treated during the american chattel period came directly from the bible

Cool and all it talks about not abusing children but god does and excuses what he wants, the whole killing all the firstborns of isreal, or commanding the slaughter of the caananites, men, women and children, to slaughter the women who have known a man, and to take the others for themselves (no age limit mention you may notice)

Also you're right, why is there no mention of pedophelia in the bible? God condemned wearing mixed fabrics, eating shellfsh, homosexuality, sewing your field with two kinds of seed, no all of that is condemnable, slavery? Nah he gives instructions, pedophilia? Nah but there's a few passages that many have taken to be explicitly condoning it, when you say interpretation, what you mean is some people like to take the bible liberally or call anything they disagree with metaphor to protect it when it objectively says evil shit

Again, what about those non hebrew slaves, those non hebrew slaves which are referred to as property in multiple passages, those non hebrew slaves which don't have protections and are to be passed down to their children, what about buying a wife? Did the woman get a say in it? The answer is no, btw, her father sells her, and she is to "please" her man, again, most scholars agree that this is generally in reference to sexual pleasure, women were usually sold as sex slaves

Yes eventually the Nazi movement fell into "positive christianity" that doesn't change it's roots it's normal christianity or the fact it was believed by the majority of it's troops, used as a rallying cry, what got hitler in power in the first place and why they targetted jews

And yes, I can absolutely say, as an african american yourself, justifying the shit used to enslave and torture your ancestors is just deeply fucked up, the slaves bible was explicitly a thing, who gives a shit if a handful of people reinterpreted the bible in a way that they thought was better and supported them, of course they did, because you god couldn't be fucked to be clear enough that people wouldn't fucking enslave and kill others, all powerful and all knowing but not powerful enough to be clear and not all knowing enough to know of the confusion it would cause, of course

Again, Bible condemns many other practices considered normal at the time, it actively doesn't condemn slavery, instead changing how it was done to make people nicer to those that follow the bible specifically, the same book that condemns insane small shit refuses to condemn slavery and instead talks about it repeatedly in what is obviously a very encouraging way

What on earth would make you think that the piece directly after the ten commandments is suddenly, without any mention of it being so, switching from god's commandments to "oh just what was going on at the time, y'knowwwww"

It's excuses, and they're shitty, and this isn't even the end of the horrible shit that book does and allows, american chattel slaves were treated just about EXACTLY as non hebrew slaves were laid out to be treated in the bible and historically it's likely that american chattel slavery comes from older biblical practices

But I'll give you another chance, give me any good reason to read exodus 20 as god's divine command and suddenly read exodus 21 as some weird recounting, I've heard this plenty and it's absurd, it's just so obviously just trying to weasal around the reailty

And again, if it's all about misinterpretations and mistranslation, man what a mighty god that he can't even write a book coherent enough to make sense to those in the future or translate it himself, maybe come down and go "oi stop it" as he supposedly did for all sorts of other things, I mean he fucking tormented Job because of a dare from satan, but nah slavery, doesn't bat an eye

[judespoets]

with you | jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

requested: yes!

word count: 0.6k

You were never the extroverted kind of person especially with other people. Meeting them was hard for you but when you got along, you were anything but shy and introverted.

Today was no different. You were at an event with your boyfriend, Jude. Normally, you would’ve stayed at home but you saw how excited he got when you agreed to come with him, you didn’t want to ruin this for him.

So as you were currently standing in a group with some of Jude’s teammates after the trophy ceremony, you only listened. They talked about their brake and what they did for Christmas yet you were only standing next to Jude, your arm wrapped around his waist and his hand sitting right above the curve of your back. You felt comfortable like this, you didn’t need to be a part of the conversation, you always liked to just listen to people.

But someone ripped you out of your thoughts. It was Eduardo, you knew him, he was over at your house a few times, meeting with Jude.

“How was your Christmas, did you spend it with Jude?” He asked, oblivious to your disinterest in the conversation.

“Me? Oh I- yeah. We were back in England with Jude’s family.” You answered shortly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

Eduardo nodded, wanting to keep the conversation going. “You were at Jobe’s match no?” He asked, wanting to include you.

As you just nodded, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as you could, you felt Jude brushing his fingers over your back, sensing your discomfort.

He placed a kiss to your temple. “We’ll leave in five, okay? We’re basically done here.” He reassured you, knowing you would rather be at home on the couch with him than here.

You just nodded against his mouth, feeling more safe now.

After Jude said goodbye to the people he knew, the two of you sat in the car on your way back home.

Jude’s right hand was resting on your thigh while his other hand was holding the steering wheel confidently, his thumb brushing over your skin every now and then.

The silence between the two of you was comfortable, it always was. The amazing thing with Jude was, that you didn’t need to talk all the time. You could just sit in silence and still feel like you were safe and loved.

Jude understood you better than anyone else so when he felt you wrapping your hands around his arm, leaning tiredly against him, he knew you wanted to just get home.

“You okay, love? Tired?” He asked, glancing at you.

“Yeah, I had fun.” You answered, that being only part of the truth.

“I know you didn’t have fun the whole evening, babe.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, but I’m so proud of you.” You sighed, closing your eyes, feeling exhausted.

“We’re almost home.” He said in understanding.

When Jude and you walked through the front door of your shared home, he immediately bent down, unclipping your heels softly.

And without another word, he swapped your feet off the ground, carrying you to the couch in the living room, lying down next to you.

You immediately cuddled into his side, the affection being the first one today. You missed it.

“Hey babe.” You whispered softly, placing soft kisses against his neck.

“Hey, you. Not so shy anymore, huh?” He asked you, chuckling softly but quickly responding to your touch and turning you to be held by him.

“I like it here, just with you.” You said, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you.

“I like it here too, my love. Thank you for coming with me.” He said, grateful for you being at his side despite you hating it.

“I couldn’t imagine not coming with you. I love you so much, Jude.” You admitted quietly, cuddling into his side further.

“You’re cute, you know? Being shy first and here you’re so extroverted. I love you, babe.” He told you, repeating to kiss your head softly.

And at that moment, everything was perfect, your shy side long forgotten.

[starzradio]

BODY PAINT

the plan was just to get a tattoo for your birthday. so far so good. but how’d you end up getting eaten out too?

FEATURING: tattoo artist! geto suguru x female reader

CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, pierced/tattooed geto, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, doggy, pet names (pretty girl, cutie, etc.), finger sucking, spanking (once), creampie, kinda maybe perchance public sex(?)

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: anotha repost so if you’ve seen this b4, no you haven’t 😓

Portraits and portraits of art pieces covering the walls welcomed you as you stepped inside, the jingle of the bell perched on the front announcing your entrance. From dragons to variations of skulls—some with roses, lightning, and a couple of the grim reaper. You could easily lose yourself looking at all the different works, staring at how all the different lines came together and how the colors melded into one another.

“What're you looking for today?" A low baritone voice interrupted your brief exploration of the parlor. You turned to see a man standing at the counter with pigtails, a black line going across his nose and a couple piercings scattered across his pale face. How was it that you'd missed him upon walking inside?

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo, do you guys happen to accept walk-ins?" You responded, coming up to the counter where the man was standing. Choso, from what his name tag read. "We do, our current tattoo artist's busy though. You mind waiting about.. twenty minutes?"

You supposed it wasn't too bad after showing up without an appointment so you just simply nodded, going over to take a seat in the lobby. There was only one other person sitting on the end of the black sofa, their attention purely on the show playing on the TV mounted on the wall. You went from playing with your fingers to looking over at the TV, attempting to do anything that would make these twenty minutes pass by.

"Hey, go ahead and fill this out. And let me see your ID," Choso came back with a sheet of paper, a consent form. You fished for your ID in the back pocket of your jeans before handing it over to him, starting out with the task of filling out the paper. Signing your initials where it asked you to, reading through the different medical conditions that the paper explicitly listed out.

Your foot bounced against the floor as you waited, sudden nerves starting to hit you all at once now that you were in here. You knew that you wanted a tattoo, you'd been looking forward towards getting it for a few months now. But the little nagging voice inside your head told you that you could barely tolerate a needle at the doctor's office, and that was only for a couple seconds in of itself. How would you tolerate almost an hour of it?

A woman walked out from the back of the parlor, a tattoo of what seemed to be her birth year wrapped up in cling wrap. But your attention was quickly diverted to the man coming out after her—though, you supposed it would be hard not to stare at him. He was absolutely.. gorgeous. Long dark black hair that practically seemed to shine underneath the harsh lights tied back in a half bun, eyebrow and snake bites piercings accentuating the features of his face, and dark ink adorning his forearms.

"Here's the aftercare sheet, just shoot me a text or something if you have any concerns or anything," the man told the woman before she stepped away from the counter, handing her a white paper. The jingle of the bell echoed behind her as she left, leaving only the four of you alone in the lobby. Maybe this wasn't who Choso was talking about? You couldn't picture yourself or your panties for that matter lasting hours in a room with him.

Though, you probably should've expected as much with your luck.

"You got time for a walk-in?" Choso spoke up, nudging his head towards you when the other man was finished pocketing his tip. The man glanced over at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through it for a couple seconds. "Yeah, I got time," the other man walked over, standing in front of you before extending a hand out, "Geto Suguru." The coldness from the silver rings adorning each of his fingers was a stark difference from how warm his hand seemed to be. You gave him your name, stopping the handshake before it prolonged more than it should've.

More than it already did.

"So, what type of tattoo were you looking for?" Geto pushed his hands in his pockets, standing back to allow for you to get up from the spot. "I'm not too sure how to describe it, but I have a reference photo, if that's okay?" You told him, getting your phone out to go back to your camera roll. "Yeah, that's fine. Just airdrop to me when you find it."

The smell of antibacterial spray filled your nose as you stepped in, the room somehow been more decorated than the one outside. Geto had a couple of his designs up on the wall along with a couple band posters��Nirvana, Iron Maiden, and Led Zeppelin being some of the more prominent ones. A couple figures placed on a shelf, photos decorating them as well.  "Go on and take a seat. I'll be right there," he told you, opening up one of his drawers.

You took a seat on the leather chair in the middle of the chair, leaning against it before looking over to see what he was doing. "So.. how bad is it supposed to hurt?" You decided to ask, bracing yourself for the worst answer that he could give you. Despite the fact that you knew arm tattoos weren't all that painful from the two hours of research you'd done. "I can't give you a straightforward answer since not everyone has the same pain tolerance. But I'll walk you through the process before I start."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is shave your arm," Geto started off, opening up a pack of razors in front of you. Almost like he wanted to reassure you that everything he was using was new. "Around what area do you want the tattoo?" You opened your arm, gesturing around your inner forearm. Geto shaved the hair around the middle, wiping the residue away with a tissue.

"Next thing I'm gonna do is rub some alcohol on there and put on this cream," he brought up a small container into your line of vision, "It's not numbing cream before you get any ideas. Just so the stencil sticks." The rest of the process had gone relatively fast, the smell of rubbing alcohol filling up the space between the two of you. Geto placed the stencil on your arm, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. "Is this placement okay or do you want me to change it? Don't hesitate to ask, since y'know.. it is kinda permanent."

After a couple minutes of deliberation, Suguru placed the stencil where you’d decided. "So I'm gonna go ahead and put the needle on your arm just to go ahead and see if you can tolerate it," the machine whirred to life with the press of a button, "If you don't think you can tolerate it, just let me know and I'll wipe off the stencil." Geto turned around to face you, the buzzing of the tattoo gun getting louder the closer it got to your arm. All the nerves that you'd felt earlier seemed so silly now. While you felt the pressure of the needle , it was nothing like the excruciating pain you'd heard others have.

You cleared your throat before looking back over at him again, "Yeah, I can handle it." Suguru simply nodded, uncapping the bottle of black ink before almost filling up the small container in front of him. He arranged the small containers almost perfectly aligned to each other, the small work space that he'd set in front of him looking meticulous. Even the napkin that he'd grabbed was neatly folded up in three squares.

You'd almost wished that it was Choso doing the tattoo instead. Because, this, well this simply just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how he managed to look so goddamn pretty just doing the most menial of tasks. The almost intoxicating scent of amber from his cologne filling up your senses with how close he was. You weren't sure if was better or worse for you that he didn't notice just how affected you were, of how much his presence alone was making you want to ditch the whole idea of getting a tattoo.

"You need something to help you relax? I got a couple stress balls hanging around or I could play something on the TV if you want," Suguru sat down on the rolling chair next to you, already grabbing the TV remote next to you. "Can you just play something, please?" Geto flickered through a couple of the channels available, settling on what was on the TV mounted outside. Not particularly your first choice, but enough to get your mind off the tattoo, at least.

And to get your mind off the very attractive man next to you trying to do his job.

"So, any meaning behind this tattoo or you just decided you wanted to get it?" Suguru broke the silence, though his focus was purely on tracing the piece of work in front of him. "Just saw it on Pinterest and I related to it a bit. Well, that and the design itself seemed pretty to me," you offered, staying still and keeping your attention on the TV. "I can follow the design that you showed me or I could try to improve on it. That is, if you have trust in my abilities," he spoke up after a couple seconds, purple eyes almost seeming to bore into you. 

"Can I see some of your abilities in place?" As hot as the man was—you didn't want to risk the tattoo coming out like complete dog shit. Suguru let out a short laugh, getting up from his spot before flipping through a couple drawers. He came back with a leather bound sketchbook, placing it on your lap. "I'm not much to show my works to others, but feel free to flip around if that helps you decide," you opened up the sketchbook with your available arm, immediately being greeted with a plethora of colors.

Not only were the pieces themselves better than what you could've expected, but they were so realistic. The shading of each drawing accentuating it perfectly against the lighting of the room, almost like he'd focused on that more than the actual drawing. You shut the sketchbook after flipping through a couple pages of different flowers, animals, and whatever else his brain could conjure up—handing it back to an expectant Geto. "It'd be wrong not to have faith in you after seeing that," you mused, watching him set the sketchbook aside before he went back to tracing.

"Don't worry, I'm still gonna follow the whole outline and shit. Just wanna make it look a little bit better is all," he responded, dipping the needle onto the container of black ink before bringing it back to your arm. You turned to look at much progress he'd done after the forty minute episode had ended only to realize he was just finishing up with the tip of the design. An incredibly detailed tip, though. "You okay? Don't want you passing out on me or anything."

"No, I'm fine," you reassured, going back to watching the TV in the comfortable silence that had built in the room. The only sounds emanating from the room were the soft whirring of the tattoo gun and the screaming of a couple characters on screen. "Have you watched this before?" You decided to break the silence after a while, turning to look over at him. "Something like that. Haven't watched much after the fourth season. Don't really have a buncha time available to watch TV."

The rest of the session had gone moderately well, the two of you sitting in silence for a majority of the time albeit for a couple questions that either he or you asked. He was, oddly enough, easy to talk to. "Okay, I'm gonna go in with a white paint. It's gonna hurt more than the other one so just tell me if it gets to be too much," he told you, pouring white paint into one of those small containers. And you felt the difference between the two, looking over to see him adding small marks with the white paint. Small marks that were starting to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Easy, you did so well for me throughout the session. This is nothing compared to that," Suguru spoke up, raising the tattoo gun to give you a small break. One of his gloved hands went to the furrow settled in your brow, gently easing it over before changing out the gloves for a fresh pair. You weren't even sure when you'd even started to grimace so badly. "Easy for you to say," you grumbled underneath your breath, certain that he wouldn't have caught it. But if the way his eyes shot up to look at you with a slightly amused smile was anything to go by, he did.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Geto muttered, turning the tattoo gun back on and going back to adding the fine white strokes. Maybe it'd been the fact that he'd offered that small bit of reassurance or maybe it was the fact that you could feel the session was starting to come to an end, but the pain didn't quite feel as bad as the first go. "Alright, we're all done," he spoke up after a couple minutes, turning the tattoo gun off and placing it on the table next to him.

"You mind if I get a couple pictures?" He waited for you to nod before setting up the ring light next to you, pulling his phone out. You extended your arm out to where he had the camera pointed, the tattoo on display. "Mm, hold on," Suguru muttered to himself, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist to adjust the angle. His touch almost seeming to linger more than necessary. Surely, all of this wasn't necessary just for a single photo, right? Especially when you weren't even the subject of said photo.

"You're gonna want to avoid shaving or waxing the area while it's still healing, some peeling's normal but just come to me if you have any concerns," he continued to explain the process of the aftercare involved, wrapping the tattoo up in cling wrap. "Try not to fuck it up," Geto led you over to the front desk, ringing you up for the price. "Wasn't it $120 and not $100?" You questioned, grabbing your wallet from your pocket.

"Consider it a birthday discount of sorts, pretty girl," the nickname spilled out so easily that you might've almost missed it. As if you needed more things to overthink about from this encounter. You handed him a hundred dollar bill with a ten dollar tip, giving him a short thanks before leaving the parlor. You looked over at the aftercare sheet that he'd given you at the counter, seeing his Instagram scrawled out in pretty decent penmanship. Well, at least you had plans for when you got back to your apartment tonight.

You knew that the tattoo was healing nicely—that you'd put the expensive ass ointment that Geto had recommended the designated three times a day. So why exactly did you find yourself standing outside the tattoo parlor once more? Out of concern for the new ink or just wanting to see Suguru once more? It couldn't be the latter, right? Not like you'd spent hours scrolling through his Instagram these last couple days to see what he'd thought about the tattoo. Definitely not the latter.

After all, he did say come to him if you had any concerns.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Choso to greet you at the counter this time around. Suguru was standing there, rearranging a couple pieces of body jewelry onto the glass display before he lifted his head to see who'd walked in the door. "You didn't let it get infected, did you? I spent hours on that thing," he didn't even bother with a greeting as Choso had done, already looking annoyed at the prospect. "Your concern for my health's endearing too."

"Yeah, yeah, what're you here for?"

"I just wanted to check up with you to see if the tattoo was healing nicely," the practiced lie slipped out of your tongue without any effort, plenty of rehearsals in your head allowing for it to slip out with any second thought.

"Alright, I have a couple minutes before my next appointment gets here," Suguru gestured for you to join him, opening the door for you. The space looked pretty much the same as the day you'd come in—which you should've expected, since it was only a week ago—albeit for a couple pencils scattered on top of a sketchbook in the middle of his desk. You took a seat on the leather chair, waiting for him to finish cleaning up his space.

Suguru grabbed a white box of gloves, grabbing a pair before placing them on. "So, what're you concerned about?" He questioned, long fingers running through your skin as he looked at how the tattoo was healing. "Well, it's been peeling a bit. I just wanted to know if that was normal or if I'm fucking something up somehow. I've been putting on the ointment you recommended three times a day."

Geto let out a small hum before leaning back on the rolling chair, folding his arms across his chest. His very muscular arms, the material of his black button down practically straining against them with the motion. "Your tattoo seems to healing well. Bit of peeling's normal as a new layer of skin comes in, nothing to worry about too much. Usually the area starts to get red if it's starting to get infected."

And maybe you should've taken that as a cue to leave. But you found yourself wanting to bask in whatever couple seconds that he would give you, unable to think about any other opportunities where you'd see him. Well, any other opportunities that didn't involve you spending upwards of a hundred dollars. You made no effort to move just yet, folding your hands over your lap. Trying to think of anything else to prolong this visit.

A couple moments of silence pass between the two of you before Suguru opens his mouth up to speak, only to get interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Yo, someone named Larue's here for their appointment," Choso called out from the other side, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Suguru gives you a glance before answering back, "Ask him to reschedule. Tell him that I'm sorry and I'll give him a discount or something."

Choso's heavy boots echoed against the floor as he walked away, leaving you alone with Geto once more. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you're doing here again? And don't lie to me, talking about some 'I wanna see if my tattoo's healing properly,'" And you almost rolled your eyes at the way he raised his voice in pitch, mocking you with a short chuckle. Almost.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. Second, I really did just come to see if it was healing properly," And despite your words, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the chair just yet. "So maybe I should go tell Larue to come back for his appointment. Since we determined your tattoo's healing nicely, our time's done," You would've thought that he was bluffing but he moved to get up from his chair, walking over to the door.

"Wait," you called out before he managed to turn the doorknob, looking over to see him already staring at you with an expectant look on his face. Like he was about five seconds away from telling you to get off the leather chair. "So maybe, there's a slight chance that I didn't just come here just because I was concerned about my tattoo," you muttered almost reluctantly, avoiding looking at him directly.

"And why don't you try telling me why you came here instead?" Suguru stepped away from the door, returning to his spot in the seat next to you. Where you couldn't avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. How would you even begin telling him that he's been clouding your mind since last week just from that three hour interaction? That you've refreshed his Instagram page more times than you could count to see what he'd say about the piece?

You gulped, willing for the words to come out before he got the chance to go back to the door again. But you couldn't. Couldn't bring yourself to the potential humiliation that would inevitably come if you had just been delusional about this all along.

"You here because you want me to fuck you?" And the words that you'd struggled to spit out, he'd just said them so bluntly. You were expecting for him to look at you with that same mocking smile from earlier, but he seemed to be genuinely analyzing you. Waiting. "No, no, of course, I was just here to.." You hadn't quite rehearsed for this part in your mind.

"Because if you were, then I'd say that I was thinking about you too, cutie," and before you had the chance to respond, he was already speaking again, "So I'm just gonna ask you again. Are you here because you want me to fuck you?"

Now that there was little chance of your advances getting rejected, the word slipped out so easily, "Yes."

"Go on and lay back for me. Wanna taste you," and by how quick he was to get on his knees in front of you, you'd guess that he was doing this for his pleasure more than yours. "Lift up your hips," you followed his words without hesitation, letting him slide your jeans off and place them to the side. Large tattooed hands spread your thighs apart, presenting you like a feast to the man before you.

And you would've felt some ounce of embarrassment for the wet spot that quickly built up in the middle of your panties in just the five minutes of being here—if it weren't for the fact that Geto's cock was already straining against the material of his jeans. "Mph, fuck!" Geto quickly pulled your attention back to the issue at hand, his tongue prodding against your clothed cunt. "Not so loud, you don't want Choso to hear us," he clicked his tongue, giving you somewhat of a relief when he pulled away.

A very short lived relief. His tongue traced the outline of your slick folds through the material of your thin panties, his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit, your cunt leaking out onto your underwear. You'd be lucky at this rate, if you could wear them back home. And almost like he'd read your mind, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

You waited to feel his tongue on your cunt again—but nothing came. You looked over at him, watching as he just observed your weeping pussy. "Thought you were eager to taste," you muttered, a scoff leaving from his lips. A gust of wind blowing to your cunt, your walls clenching all the much more. Eager to receive whatever he could give. "Let me admire for a bit. We got enough time," Suguru let out a small tsk after, his face in front of your cunt. And before you had the chance to say anything more—his tongue was already on your labia.

Your syrupy slick dripped onto his expecting tongue, his eyes almost rolling back at the taste. The small silver ball at the end of his tongue piercing flicked against your folds with every lick, each touch serving to have you clenching around pure air. Your hips bucked up to meet his movements, his large hands holding you down in mere seconds. "What'd I say? Let me enjoy this, pretty girl. Told you we got enough time."

"Such a tease," your grumbled words came out more breathless than you would've liked. "And you're so impatient," he retorted without missing a beat. A hushed whine escaped from your lips when you felt him pull away, his mouth moving to your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, nibbling down just hard enough for it to leave a mark behind. "Promise I'll take care of you, sweet girl. Have some trust in my abilities."

“You say that but your abilities have been less than stellar lately."

A couple dark locks fell out of place, framing his face almost perfectly. You'd almost expected Suguru to look offended at the implication of your words—but all he did was seem to find some kind of amusement. "Guess I'll have to repair that then," he murmured, more so to your cunt than to you, his tongue prodding in and out of your entrance. "You're not doing a g-Oh fuck!" He immediately made you swallow whatever retort you were planning, his tongue penetrating inside of you. 

Suguru swiped his tongue up and down your cunt, the lower half of his face covered in a mixture of your slick and his own spit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his nose prodding against your clit with every swipe that he made. "Keep looking at me, pretty. Keep those pretty eyes on me," you opened your eyes to see purple eyes already looking back at you, resuming his actions all too greedily. He was so messy when it came to eating you out—spitting into your cunt, watching almost all too eagerly as you clenched around the liquid.

"Please," a whine left your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair. Whatever act of defiance you'd tried to put on earlier had quickly faded away, all you were feeling was need. An almost slutty moan left his lips at the sudden tug, one of his hands grabbing on to yours. "Come on, you can pull harder, can't you?" An even louder groan escaped his lips at the harder tug you gave this time around—the tips of your fingers digging into his scalp. "Now, what were you saying please for?" His words came out muffled, his face buried in between your legs. "Your fingers, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," Suguru took to that almost immediately, two long fingers pushing past the ring of muscle before curling to hit your g-spot. His mouth instantly attached itself to your throbbing clit, pushing through your clitoral hood to get to the bundle of nerves. "F-Fuck, don't stop, don't stop," you sounded like a broken record, your thighs pressing tightly against the sides of his face while his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," any other thought that you had apart from cumming had been quickly fucked out of you, your grip on his hair tightening even further. Not that Suguru minded by any means, moaning against your cunt with every tug. The vibrations only added to the dual stimulation, your back arching off the chair. Needing to get more. Pushing your hips against his face, bucking up to meet every swipe of his tongue. "Cum for me, princess, come on. You can do it, right?"

All you could do was nod, not wanting to be any louder than you already had been. Part of you had been surprised that Choso hadn't come by knocking earlier. Suguru continued flicking his tongue around your clit, working in synchrony with his fingers to pull your orgasm out of you. "Fuck fuck, gonna cum!" You weren't sure if your muffled moan made it's way into Suguru's ears, watching as he eagerly lapped up your release. Running his tongue across his lips, your slick making them glisten under the lights.

"Get on all fours," Suguru told you after you'd managed to regain your breath, deft fingers working to unzip his jeans. You got on your stomach, resting it against the cold leather while getting on your hands and knees. And if Choso were to come into the room to be quiet now, he'd get a spectacular view of your ass perched up in the air. Suguru ran his cock against your folds, your slick lubricating it with ease after your previous orgasm.

Ridges running down his shaft brushed up against your tight walls, your slick coating his tip like second nature the further that he pushed it in. Your walls clenched and unclenched rapidly in a futile attempt to get used to the pure stretch of his cock. "You can take it, right? This isn't anything," But the sheer girth of his cock was just enough to dispute that statement, the position making him feel much deeper than he was. "Yeah, yeah, I can take it," your voice came out as a mewl, your grip on the leather getting tighter the more he pushed his cock in.

The rhythm that he started up was fairly slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. Whatever he was lacking in length, he certainly compensated for it with the sheer size of his girth. Just a couple inches inside of you and he'd already stuffed you full. "Doin' so good, gonna speed up, okay?" He waited for you to nod, retracting his cock before pushing the full length inside of you with one sharp thrust. Your mouth went agape, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head upon the impact. "So good, so so good," even after a couple thrusts, he already sounded so obsessed.

"That's ittt, that's my girl. Fuck that ass back into me," A strangled groan left his throat at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling underneath him with every thrust, the two of you moving in tandem. One of the hands that'd been on your waist went to cup whatever he could of the flesh, all too entranced with the vision presented in front of him. "Mm, fuck!" A moan left your lips as you felt the palm of his hand strike against the flesh, your ass stinging from the impact. Not to say that you necessarily hated it, by any means.

And Suguru caught it—the way your slick ran down his shaft at the sudden impact. "Should've fucking guessed you would've liked it," his tone practically dripped in condescension as he spoke, his hand going to cup your other ass cheek. Holding the flesh in his hands before giving you another harsh slap, almost rivaling the harsh smack of his hips against your own. "Shit shit, Geto, don't stop," you whined, pushing your ass back into him. "Think it's okay for you to call me Suguru after bein’ inside you and all."

"Suck," a simple command, two of his fingers in front of your face. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting the remnants of your cum on them before letting it fall flat. Simply sucking on his fingers as his cock pushed in and out of you with such fervor. "Get 'em all nice and wet for me, just like that," Suguru pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth the second you started to get too loud again, tears building up at your waterline when you gagged on them. "Aw, don't cry, cutie. Y'know I had to."

And while his words were meant to be reassuring, the mocking tone of his voice was anything but. Spit dribbled down from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the chair beneath you. "Sugu-Sugu, fuck, right there!" He'd adjusted the angle of his hips, his shaft brushing up against your g-spot with every thrust. "So. Fucking. Tight," each of his words was accentuated with a deep thrust of his hips, filling you up impossibly so. Like he wanted to show you just how much he'd been thinking about it, like he claimed he did.

If the moans coming out of you weren't evidence enough as to what was happening in the room, then you were pretty much certain that the plap! plap! echoing through the walls was evidence enough. Geto's heavy balls smacked against your ass with every harsh thrust of his hips. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing at the nub just in time for it to match his pace. You clamped around his cock like a vice, a strangled moan leaving out of his lips. "Just had to tell- shit me that you wanted my cum, ma."

"Mph, cumm- I'm cumm-" Muffled babbles left your mouth, your cunt clenching around him yet again. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. Whatever small bits of concern about being too loud had been disregarded—loud squelches and skin clapping filling up the room as Suguru rutted inside of you. You turned your head to look over at him, the sight before you almost like something out of a painting. His hair had completely been released from the half-bun, cascading down his back perfectly and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.

Spurts and spurts of cum shot deep inside of you, his cock twitching as you milked him for whatever he could offer. Suguru pulled his softening cock out of your cunt, his cum starting to dribble out of you and down your thighs. With the same fingers he'd had inside your mouth, he pushed his cum back inside of you. Scooping the substance up with relative ease. Your body slumped against the chair, willing that Geto would give you a couple seconds to catch your breath.

You'd expected him to grab a wipe or a paper towel to clean you up with, but he simply got up from his spot behind you. Grabbing his pants off the floor and fastening up his fly. You looked over at him through half lidded eyes, seeing him pop the fingers that had previously been in your cunt into his mouth. Slurping at them in a similar fashion that you'd done just a couple minutes prior. "Wanna taste yourself, pretty girl? 'S so fucking good."

Geto didn't give you a chance to respond before he was leaning down to your level, one of his fingers underneath your chin to raise your head. He leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a messy exchange. More of spit getting intertwined than an actual kiss, not that you minded in your state. His tongue flicked against yours, the bittersweet taste of both you and him combined filling your tastebuds. Geto pulled away after a couple seconds, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You hadn't even finished putting on your pants yet when Suguru spoke up yet again,

"You mind giving me a five star review when you get home?"

[narnian-neverlander]

Your Villain [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?”

Genre: hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: blood, injuries, panic attack (reader accidentally hurts themselves during an attack), talk about neglectful/abusive parents & human trafficking, mildly suggestive (Viktor is a menace)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Just in case I haven’t made that clear enough in all my fics, I love Jayce. Jayce haters have no space on my blog, bye 👋

“So what did you think?”

Jayce beams at you from up on the stage in the otherwise empty auditorium, you his only audience. You’d literally run into him on your way to deliver the boys’ food and without waiting for your approval, he’d immediately dragged you off to have someone to practice his presentation for some potential investors with. Most of the technical terms are lost on you of course, but the golden boy manages to make it all engaging and thrilling nonetheless, as you knew he would. There’s just one tiny little thing.

“It’s great. Except you look like you’re about to fall off the stage and start snoring any second.” His smile falters and it only serves to accentuate the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled clothes and messy hair. If that’s the state he’s in, the one out of the two Hextech geniuses just a tiny smidge better at taking care of himself, you don’t even want to think about the other one. Unfortunately, it is kind of your job to think about the other one. “When did Mel say she was bringing over those potential new investors?”

“Soon.” he answers as he hops of the stage to join you. “Soon as in a few weeks, or a few days, or…?” The way he flinches makes you dread the worst. “Soon as in I think they might already be in her office.” Shaking your head in fond exasperation, you quickly gather your things and head back towards the lab with him. “Cutting it a bit close this time, aren’t we?” He groans as he walks alongside you down the hall. “There’s just been a lot happening at once recently, alright? Besides, they’re only coming by to talk to Mel today, the actual presentation from our side isn’t for a few days.”

He holds the door to the lab open for you and you quickly thank him as you duck inside, immediately zeroing in on the man sat at one of the desks, furiously scribbling into one of his notebooks. Greeting him happily, he replies with, “Ah, you’re back. Hand me those notes you took with you.” Jayce digs through his pile of papers for said notes and leaves them on the desk before coming to stand beside you. “Does he— Has it resgistered with him that I’m here…?” You’re trying your damn hardest not laugh as you pass a sandwich from your bag to the tall brunette; he shrugs while unpacking it. “Eh, maybe. 50/50 chance.” He takes a quick bite and then calls out to his partner again. “Hey V, your lover’s here.”

“That’s great, Jayce.” Deadpan, monotone. So Jayce ups the ante. “Yeah, we thought we’d maybe go on a date later? Or better yet, we skip that and just do it on a desk right here, you don’t mind, right?” A dismissive wave of a slender hand. “Yes, yes, whatever you want.” And you’re laughing while Jayce fondly shakes his head and continues to eat. Grabbing a thermos, you also snatch one of the stools scattered across the room and drag it over to where Viktor’s sitting. You sit down beside him, unscrew the bottle and pour some of the steaming contents into the empty mug still in front of him, then settle down sideways on the desk, arm tucked under your head for comfort as you watch him.

5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. 1. And there he is; blinking as the smell hits him and draws him out of his own little world. Works every time. You snort as he reaches for the mug. “At least now I know where I stand - and it’s below the sweetmilk. Disappointing, not surprising.” He startles, not really expecting anyone else in the lab, much less so close to him, eyes locking onto you and his gaze immediately grows soft. Mumbling apologies, his hand finds the back of your neck, practiced fingers drawing familiar patterns into the skin as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. Placated for now, you get back up on your feet and hug him from behind, arms around his shoulders and lips next to his ear. “How is the most handsome man in Piltover today?”

“Bone tired. But you knew that already, I guess. Pretty good, considering the stress, but it’s all gonna be worth it when—“ he cuts himself off when he finds two sets of judgemental eyes with raised brows on him, matching expressions conveying clear amusement. “And you were talking to Viktor.” Snickering, you answer, “Yes, Jayce, I was talking to the man I’ve been dating for months. I can see how you got confused though, considering our earlier bit. And I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, all things considered, but maybe some rest isn’t the worst idea? Get your mind working properly again?” And because the poor man doesn’t feel bad enough yet, Viktor brings a hand to his heart, clutching at his chest in mock offense and chimes in with, “Oh don’t be too hard on him, we can’t blame him; it’s only natural he’d assume you’re talking to him. Who would ever look at me when Piltover’s very own golden boy is in the room?”

Jayce opens and closes his mouth, failing miserably at trying to come up with a retort; both of you grinning at him like cats playing with their favorite toy, so he simply throws up his hands in surrender and settles on: “Oh, you both suck. You deserve each other.” Still laughing, you plant a quick kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek and then walk back over to the table where you left your bag, intending to grab his lunch. Not that you get very far, as the very familiar handle of a cane loops around your waist and drags you backwards in stumbling steps and before you know it you land in Viktor’s lap with an ‘Ooff!’

“And where do you think you’re going?” he complains, trapping you with him, arms tightly wound around your middle. “To get your food so you actually have the energy to go home with me?” You can feel the protest coming before he even opens his mouth and you’re absolutely not having it right now, not with the way he currently looks. “Darling, your eyebags have eyebags, you’re already about halfway out of your clothes and quite frankly, you reek. So you’re coming home with me, you’re gonna take a bath and then a nap and you’re not gonna argue about it. I just saw the presentation on your current project; it’s perfectly fine, your work is done and you have no reason to stay cooped up in here any longer today.” Tired, amber eyes blink at you owlishly several times before he cocks his head to the side and a sultry smile tugs at his lips and you curse yourself for not just slapping your hand over his mouth when you’d had the chance. “And when do we get to the part where I get to have you for dessert?” An eye roll at his boldness. “Maybe we can talk about it after your nap. Maybe.” His nose wrinkles in disapproval and he buries his face in the crook of your neck before you can stop him, warm breath fanning across your neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake when he speaks again. “Eh, I do not like that order.” You just barely manage to tangle your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug his head back before he manages to sink his teeth into the column of your throat. “Viktor…” you warn, only halfheartedly. He’s even worse of a menace than usual when he’s sleep deprived and you know that. You should know that. And yet you still make the mistake of looking at him.

With the first few buttons of his shirt undone, vest and tie discarded long before you even came into the picture, strands of his chestnut hair sticking up in every direction, partly courtesy of your fingers still keeping his head in place, and pupils blown so wide there’s only a thin ring of gold left, he damn well looks like you’ve already done something indecent. The ‘What…?’ he whispers is perfectly innocent, while the smile on his pretty lips is perfectly sinful. Your lover turns your brain to mush more often than you’d like and he likes to do it at the most inopportune of times. Unintentional, of course, he’d assured you. Right.

“Oh for the love of— I’m still here!” It’s your saving grace, the reboot your brain had sorely needed. “There are times when I liked it better when you two weren’t dating, do you know that?” You get your feet back on the floor and yourself off Viktor’s lap as you teasingly shoot back with, “And do you know that you get mean when you’re sleep deprived? You had a good hand in getting us together, you know, you’re only reaping what you sowed.”

Jayce flips you off with an equally teasing, gap-toothed grin, and of course that’s the exact moment the heavy doors open and Mel walks in. The three of you scramble to look at least somewhat professional in the young councilor’s presence, which includes Jayce immediately shoving his hands behind his back and you putting a good distance between you and Viktor by meandering back over to the table with your things, luckily positioned in a back corner of the lab mostly hidden by machinery, so you simply try to make yourself as invisible as possible; her visit always means business and that really has nothing to do with you, so you try to stay out of it to the best of your abilities.

“Councilor! I didn’t expect you today, what can we do for you?” She trails an elegant hand along one of the desks as she answers Jayce. “Oh nothing much. Your next potential investors were wondering if they could maybe sneak a peak at what they might be investing in.” The two scientists exchange quick glances. “With all due respect, our presentation wasn’t supposed to be until later this week. And to be honest we’re in no shape—“ She interrupts him with a call of his name, soft and amused and the air in the room becomes lighter, less professional. “Their little one asked to see the lab, that’s all. She was quite excited about the entire prospect of you two making actual magic happen here.” Viktor’s shoulders slump in relief as Jayce laughs lightly. “O-oh that’s… yeah, sure, why not.” Mel nods in thanks and then returns to the door, inviting the people waiting inside.

What happens next is mostly political pleasantries and introductions being exchanged, so you don’t really pay much attention, except… you know these voices. At least, you’re fairly certain you do, even if your mind can’t place them in this very moment. Trying to inconspicuously steal a glance at the visitors, you peek around a corner of machinery. You can’t see much, with their backs turned to you; two human adults with graying hair, in fine clothes, adorned with gold and jewels, and a little bouncing ball of energy hopping around them, trying to take in everything in the lab all at once.

“Mama, Papa, look! What’s that? And what do you use this for? Oh, why do you have that thing?”

A soft chuckle.

“My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?”

And the glass bottle in your hands slips from your fingers and shatters into a thousand little pieces on the floor.

Mama, Papa, look! I’ve never seen any food like that! What do you think it tastes like? Can we get this back home, too?

My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?

The blood’s roaring in your ears, ‘Oh that’s just a friend who brought over some food, nothing to worry about’ the last thing you hear from Jayce before the rest of the world gets drowned out. You’re on your knees, gathering glass shards in mechanical movements as your heart rate picks up enough for it to be considered worrisome. No matter how hard and deep you gulp down air, it can’t seem to fill your lungs and your breaths turn sharp, shallow, gasping.

Meanwhile Viktor is drumming his fingers against the wood of the desk in irritation and anxiety and the very instant these people are out the door, he’s up and walking across the room. Something’s wrong with you; he can’t explain it, but he’s absolutely certain nonetheless. As he rounds the corner of the lab equipment you’re hiding behind, his stomach drops and the breath almost gets knocked out of him.

Blood. All over the floor, smeared over your thighs and dripping from your trembling hands, glass shards clutched between your fingers. He shouts for Jayce to get the first aid kit immediately and then he’s down on the ground with you, desperately pleading with you to open your hands and let go. But it’s like you can’t even see him, much less hear him; breaths barely a shivering wheeze and glassy, unfocused eyes staring off into nothing. If he forces your palms open he’s only going to hurt you and himself, so he brings his hand to the back of your neck instead, gently coaxing you to him and leaning his forehead against yours; whispering quiet reassurances to you, hoping to pull you back from whatever dark place you slipped into.

“It’s okay, miláčku, you’re okay.”

“I’m with you, you’re not alone.”

“Breathe, please just breathe for me, my love.”

It takes several long, agonizing minutes, but your breathing slowly returns to normal and you finally unclench your hands, glass still sticking to your tender, bloody skin. Blinking, your eyes swim back into focus and you can’t remember how exactly you ended up on the floor, or why you feel so exhausted and light headed. Or why Viktor’s kneeling on the ground in front of you, looking like he just witnessed his very own personal hell play out in front of him; Jayce standing a few feet behind him with the first aid kit in his hands, equally concerned and horrified.

“V-Vik…?” you whimper and that’s when the pain finally hits and your gaze falls to the bloody, disgusting mess that is your hands and the sobs and tears start before the situation fully registers.

The both of them get you up and sitting on the nearest desk, Viktor next to you with an arm around your shoulders and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, tears staining his shirt as he shushes you gently. Jayce gets to work on your hands in the meantime, picking out glass shards from your skin with a pair of tweezers as carefully as possible. By the time he’s applying disinfectant to your wounds and starts slowly wrapping them in gauze, the lab’s silent except for your quiet hiccups. Gingerly, apologetically, Viktor makes you sit up so he can get a look at your face and while he doesn’t necessarily like what he finds, eyes red and puffy and glassy, still with the same empty faraway look from earlier, he deems it safe enough to question you. “Darling, can you tell me what happened…?” You open your mouth, you want to answer, but try as you might, nothing comes out. So he helps you along. “Did you know the people who were here?” A nod.

Jayce knows about the… unique circumstances you’d had to endure when you first came to Piltover. Not in as much detail as Viktor, he assumes anyways, but he’s your friend and you’d confided in him about it long ago. And with his partner’s usually sharp mind clouded with worry, he’s the one that connects the dots first. Not that it makes getting the question out any easier, so when he speaks it’s slow and hesitant. “Were they… were they some of the people that… bought you when you were a kid…?” To his surprise, or maybe relief, he’s not sure, you shake your head no. Short lived relief as your answer makes his blood turn to ice. “They’re the people that sold me in the first place…”

“Those were… those were your parents…?” Jayce asks carefully as he finishes wrapping up your hands and you don’t actually answer his question, only mumble to yourself under your breath, and what he manages to hear breaks the inventor’s heart. “They have a kid… they have a kid…”

In direct opposition to his partner, Viktor’s blood is boiling. If you weren’t entirely reliant on him to keep you upright at the moment, he would be out of the lab and after your birth parents already. And it’s not hard to tell what he’s thinking, with the sharp, deadly glare directed at the door, so Jayce calls his name. No reaction. Again. Same result. Third time’s the charm, this time a bit louder, with more force behind it, and the Zaunite’s narrowed golden eyes flit from the doors to his fellow scientist. He’s gotten up from the stool he’d been on to treat your wounds, now packing up the medical supplies and subtly inclines his head towards you. “Someone should get them to a doctor. And then home. And stay with them.”

The raging fire in Viktor dies down to flickering embers as he takes in your trembling, hunched over form, little whimpers still leaving your lips every once and again. “Of course…” he replies and he could kick himself. Of course. You’re in pain, you’re suffering and you need him right now. Whatever he might think of your birth parents, however much he’d like to throw some choice words on your behalf at them, your wellbeing comes first. So he ushers you to your feet, arms linked and starts steering you towards the exit. Jayce’s ‘Keep me in the loop, okay?’ receives a decisive nod right before the doors close behind you both.

It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?” Unconvinced, you grumble further objections under your breath and poke at one of the dwindling bubbles in the steaming water, careful not to get your hands wet, lest you need to re-wrap them again this evening. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that… I’m not usually—“

“Stop.” He silences you with a kiss to your jawline. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just sorry you had to go through that in the first place.” With a defeated sigh, you scoot down further into the tub, nestling into his embrace and nosing at the slope of his neck. Silence falls between you for a while, except for the soft music from your phonograph over in the other room. You haven’t talked about anything that has happened and he hasn’t pried, hasn’t pushed and you know he won’t. Just like you know that you probably should talk about what’s weighing down on you so heavily. “Their kid. She seemed… happy. Well taken care of.” Ah, right, that’s why you’d refused to talk. You’re already crying again, swallowing around the growing lump in your throat. “Which means they can be good parents. Nurturing. Kind. They just couldn’t be that for me.” A sobbing hiccup is a precursor of what’s to come. “Why— Why couldn’t they just be that for me?!” You curl in on yourself, tucked against his chest, dissolving into a whimpering, crying mess. He stays mostly silent through it, only comforting little nothings between soft kisses against your skin. He waits for you to calm down, quiet sniffles the only thing left of your outburst, before he speaks. “It is not your fault, my light. They’re the fools who never gave you the love and care you deserved and in turn gave up the chance to see the wonderful person you would become.”

The grief and pain in your chest slowly turns into something else entirely; bitter and ugly and hateful.

“I want them to see. I want them to see what I accomplished, the person I turned into, without their help. In spite of what they did to me. I want them to look at me and recognize that they messed up; groveling and begging for forgiveness that I won’t grant.” And a part of you does want that, more than anything. Wants to see them humiliated and crying and broken, just like they left you once, long ago. But that’s just one part of you. Another one thinks of the little, bubbly, starry eyed girl you’d seen sprinting about the lab; happy and joyful to be experiencing, sharing, something new and exciting with her beloved parents. A heavy sigh leaves you as realization which part of you will win out in the end hits. “But it wouldn’t change anything. The only thing it would accomplish is ruin the image an innocent girl has of her parents. It would change things for her, not for me or for them. I’d be destroying the foundation parents are supposed to be for their children and it would make me just like them.”

“You’re a stronger person than I ever could be. If not for you and Jayce, I would’ve gone after them today. Given them a piece of my mind.” A kiss to his pulse point. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, there was a time when I would’ve needed them in my life. Not anymore. I had a parent; a dad who raised me and supported me and gave me all the love and care I ever needed. And while he might not be around anymore, I still have people who love me. That’s more than enough.”

What you’re about to say next doesn’t come as easily to you; it’s inappropriate and you hate the fact that you even consider asking, but not mentioning it at all doesn’t sit right with you either. “Viktor, I… I don’t wanna ask this of you, I shouldn’t be. It’s presumptuous and selfish and my personal life shouldn’t be interfering with your work, but… please, just…” You can’t bring yourself to actually finish that sentence, not that you really have to, you both know what you’re implying. He doesn’t immediately reply, you don’t expect him to and you definitely don’t expect him to agree. What you’re asking is audacious at best, downright offensive at worst and you wouldn’t blame him if he got upset with you over it. What happens instead leaves you utterly baffled, because he carefully takes hold of one of your hands and presses a light kiss to the bandaged knuckles and says, “I still remember the last time I saw you when we were kids, you know.”

“You came bounding down to the riverbed, almost tripping over your own feet, yelling my name and waving your hands. Telling me all about how your parents were gonna take you to Piltover for the first time the next day. How you were gonna try every food you’d be able to get your hands on. How you were gonna bring me back a new toolbox. Gods, you were so excited, you were glowing.” A fond, soft chuckle. “I want a future where every child in Zaun can look and feel like that all the time. That’s the kind of future I want to create with Hextech. People like your parents, who will sell their own flesh and blood, who will sell Zaun’s future, for their own gain? They will not be a part of that. Not as long as I have a say in anything Hextech. So please don’t worry.”

Water splashes over the edges of the tub as you shift, straddling him and cupping his face. With glassy eyes and shaky breaths, you bring your forehead to his and whisper your thanks. He gently takes a hold of your forearms as he speaks. “Not for this. Not for anything that has transpired today.” Shaking your head slightly in disagreement, you grab one of his wrists and leave a kiss on his palm. “Yes, for this. For everything you did today. I’d never take that for granted, I’d never take you for granted, but I feel like I don’t actually tell you enough. How glad I am that I have you. How happy it makes me that you decided I’m the person you’d like to share your life with. How fortunate I consider myself to be with someone I can always rely on, no matter what.” His eyes seem to glow in the candlelight, warm honey taking you in with pride and affection as he moves his arms to wrap around you in a loose hug. “I hope you know that feeling’s mutual.” Humming in acknowledgment, you manage to ignore the part of you that disagrees with him. That little, nasty voice in the back of your head is always there, but it’s been getting quieter in recent months, easier to handle. So instead of questioning yourself and wether you truly are a support for him as much as he is for you, you kiss the mole under his eye, run your nose along his sharp cheekbone, press another kiss to the mole right above his mouth and then your lips finally find his, sweet and chaste. “Yeah, I know…” you mumble and kissing becomes virtually impossible with how much he’s smiling so you pull back with an overly dramatic huff to pout.

“So, considering the day did not at all go as planned and your precious order of things got… eh, kicked right out the window: Have you changed your mind on dessert yet?” Truly, it takes you a few very long seconds. It’s the suggestive raise of a thick brow that finally makes all the pieces click into place and the flush of your skin can’t be attributed to the hot water alone anymore as you try to dunk him for that. When that doesn’t work, you settle for splashing him instead, wet bandages and bathroom floor be damned, and try as you might to seem offended, you’re smiling and laughing right along with him. “Oh so that was your intention all along? You’re a fiend; a vile, treacherous fiend, Viktor.” He manages to get a careful hold of your flailing hands, before you hurt yourself further, with one of his own, using the other to push wet hair back and out of his face, some droplets still clinging to his long lashes as he grins up at you. “You wound me, my love, I would never. My only intention with this was to make you laugh. Is that truly such a vile and treacherous deed?”

You’re left gawking at him in awe, because even after all this time, you still can’t fully comprehend how well he knows you. “Well…?” A slender finger pokes your cheek. “Am I still the villain?” Of course he’s not. He never could be. Not in your story, anyways. But you and your wounded pride aren’t quite willing to admit that yet. So you turn your gaze away, cause you can’t possibly stay even fake mad at him if you have to look at his stupid face with that crooked grin you adore so much, before you answer. “Yes, yes you are. A devious, troublesome, terribly handsome—“ Your face scrunches up in annoyance; at yourself and your brain’s inability to function properly around this man and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you while he hugs you closer and tucks his head under your chin so you can’t get another opportunity to soak him yet again. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your hands in his hair and fiddle with the wet strands instead.

“Eh, well, at least I’m your villain. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your hold on him tightens, the grip on his hair almost painful, your answer immediate and certain. “Always. I… I’ll always want you. Villain or not.” A tad much maybe, a little silly, you’re only joking around after all, but you can’t help it. You have the love of your life right here in your arms, of this you’re certain, and as long as he still wants you in return, you don’t plan on letting him go. And you’d take any chance to tell him as much.

He doesn’t seem to see it as too much or silly, though. Not with the way he presses a lingering kiss to your chest, right where he can feel your fluttering heartbeat under your wet skin and hums in contemplation and gratitude. “The rest of the world can have me as their villain, as long I get to have you in return.” Carding your fingers through his hair softly, he receives a small chuckle as his answer. “Silly. You already have me.” You use the fingers already tangled in his chestnut locks to tip his head back and get his eyes on you, beautiful amber like a warm, familiar fire. “I’m yours, now and always. And nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Nothing…” he echoes, gaze already on your lips. The kiss is passionate, loving and oh so tender. A newfound promise between lovers, sealed to last an eternity.

[justlettheraincome]

I wrote a prequel:

Sometime, at the TARDIS

After an especially bad dispute with Aziraphale, Crowley had left Earth for a moment to brood amidst the stars. He didn't stay lonely for long:

A blue police box that hadn't been in fashion for sixty years sweeped by, turned around and stopped a few feet away. "Hiya", a young voice that sounded a lot like his own greeted Crowley: "I'm the Doctor, wanna come in for a cuppa?" Disturbed in his sulking and without much else to do, the grumpy demon accepted the invitation.

They found themselves sitting on the TARDIS' threshold, their feet dangling over the vast nothingness. They were looking at the one planet both of them love most, even if it isn't in a remotely interesting area of the universe. Crowley had miracled himself a glass of red wine, while the Doctor was clutching a cup of tea.

"Are you alone?", Crowley asked.

"I haven't always been. I had a friend. We travelled the universe together. She made the stars beautiful. There were others. Martha, Donna. I've only been alone for a few hours now. Humans... you have to be careful. They walk into your life, laugh at you in the most charming and beautiful way and live in your heart before you even notice."

"What happened?"

"What always happens. Time. But I have to go on. Just me and the TARDIS. And a whole universe to explore." The Doctor opened his arms as if he wanted to embrace the whole universe and simultaneously show it to someone. Maybe Crowley.

"How do you do it?", Crowley asked desperately: "How do you go on? How do you never fall in love?"

The Doctor gazed into the distance for a moment, before focusing his eyes on Crowley: "I don't. The secret to never fall in love is to always fall in love. And it hurts. Every hour of every day, I miss them. I am the loneliest being in the universe. I am the last of the Timelords. I lost my family, my children, my lovers. But who would I be without them? If I had never cared enough about them to mourn their loss. Sometimes I feel so old. And I don't want to be left alone any more. But I have to go on. And I just can't do it on my own."

"Oh, dear", Crowley had listened to the rant silently, before carefully stretching out a hand to the being by his side: "It's bad today, isn't it?"

"What do you know about being a Timelord? Some nights, there's nothing heavier than 906 years."

Crowley smiled at the Timelord, who had wrapped his arms tightly around his knees: "I'm older than you, you know." He winked and pointed down to Earth: "I've been on this planet for 6000 years. And I've seen a whole lot before that."

"But you've never lost the one you love."

"No, I haven't. He is down there, you know. Still fighting to admit that he loves me back." His voice broke. The two nearly eternal beings stared off into the distance for a while. Companionable silence spread until it became suffocating.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, the Doctor clambered to his feet and held out a hand to Crowley: "Do you want to join me for a while?"

Read it on AO3:

Sometime, at the TARDIS (551 words) by Guin_Ever Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who) Additional Tags: Finally someone understands, talking it through, Crossover, Space Shenanigans, Crowley Has Issues (Good Omens), The Doctor (Doctor Who) Has Issues, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, They all need hugs Series: Part 2 of Of Demons and Timelords Summary: The promised prequel. Crowley is sulking in space, when the Doctor stumbles over him and decides to stay for a chat…

I've met someone

"I've met someone" It was a notion, that Aziraphale had dreaded for a long time. There was a smile playing on Crowley's lips. Just the faintest notion of love hanging in the air. "You've met someone?", he repeatet. "Yes, lovely bloke", Crowley puttered on: "900 year old timelord, has seen the start of the universe and could actually name all of my stars…" There was a pain digging into Aziraphales heart. Crowley had met someone, someone who shared his ife experience. And his interests. Someone, who maybe wasn't so afraid of speed. Or his own feelings. Aziraphale felt the ground under his feet start to spin. "- anyways, I digress", Crowley finished the tangent. Taking a closer look at Aziraphale's face, he asked: "Are you alright?" "Yes, yes perfectly fine. Do go on my dear." Crowley shook his head slightly, as if to acknowledge that he didn't really believe Aziraphale. But his point seemed to be important to him, so he didn't dig further: "We talked about the problems of a nearly eternal life. And discovered that we had quite a lot in common." Aziraphale felt the ground sway again. He breathed in, softly. This was an important experience in Crowleys life. Even if he would have loved to be that guy instead of listening to Crowley going on and on about him, he owed Crowley the respect to listen to his feelings. "Including the regret of not saying something very important. And he doesn't have the chance to say it anymore. But I do. And I don't want to regret not saying it." What was Crowley going on about? Aziraphale had lost him somewhere on the way. Hadn't he just been explaining how great that guy was? "Right, okay, yes, so… We've known each other a long time. We've been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a group. Group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. I mean, the last few years, not really. And I would like to spend… The rest of eternity not pretending any more." With that sentence, Crowley seemed to deflate. Aziraphale needed a moment to register: "Not pretending anymore?" he repeated slowly. Crowley closed the distance between them. Yellow eyes pierced into sky-blue ones. He took another deep breath in: "Aziraphale…", there was just the tiniest bit of hesitation in his voice. A fear not yet fully overcome. "I love you."

[islandofthedollz]

Jimmy infantilizing a f!reader after physically and emotionally abusing her to the point where he's the only one she can rely on

❤︎Jailer ❤︎

⁠❥TW: Abuse, gaslighting, infantilizing, physical abuse, body shaming, Reader is 18

⁠❥ thanks for the request ILY babe :3 Hopefully the tags work and everything! I just really like talking and writing about toxic Jimmy

As you wiped down the counter, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. You were just a few months away from graduating high school and was looking forward to attending your dream college in the fall. You had worked hard to get good grades and had been accepted into a great program.

As you took a break to grab a drink from the back room, you noticed a guy sitting at a table by the window. He was older, probably in his early 30s, with a charming smile and piercing eyes. He caught your eye and nodded in your direction, and you felt a sudden jolt of attraction.

As you returned to the counter, he got up and walked over to you. "Hey, can I get a coffee?" he asked, his voice low and smooth like whiskey.

You smiled and started making his drink. "So, what brings you in here today?" Youasked, trying to make small talk.

"Just needed a break from the usual routine," he replied. "I'm Jimmy. I've never seen you around here before."

"I'm (Y/N)," you said, handing him his coffee. "I work here part-time. I'm a student too." You smiled.

Jimmy's eyes lit up with interest. "No kidding? What are you studying?"

You hesitated, not wanting to give too much away. "Just the usual stuff," you said, trying to brush it off.

But Jimmy was persistent. He started asking her more questions, and You found yourself opening up to him in ways you never had with anyone before. He was charming and witty, and seemed to understand you in a way that no one else ever had.

As the days turned into weeks, Jimmy became a regular at the cafe. He would come in every day, and you would look forward to seeing him. You would talk for hours, and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

As you started dating, Jimmy began to subtly manipulate you. He would make you feel guilty for not spending enough time with him, or for not being affectionate enough. He would criticize your appearance, telling you that you were too fat or too thin, and that you needed to dress more attractively. He would belittle your accomplishments, telling you that you weren’t good enough, and that you needed to try harder.

But as the relationship progressed, you started to notice that Jimmy was becoming more and more controlling. He would get jealous when you talked to other guys, and he would question you about every little thing you did. At first, you brushed it off as mere possessiveness, but as time went on, you started to realize that something was wrong.

One day, Jimmy asked you to drop out of high school and move in with him. "You don't need a degree to be successful," he said. "I can take care of you. You can focus on your passions and interests, and I'll support you."

You were taken aback. You had always dreamed of attending college, and the thought of dropping out of high school was unthinkable. But Jimmy was persuasive, and he made you feel like he was the only person in the world who truly understood you.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt a sense of doubt. Maybe he was right. Maybe you didn't need a degree to be successful. And besides, you are in love with him, and you wanted to make him happy.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll drop out of school and move in with you."

Jimmy's face lit up with a smile, and he pulled you into his arms. "I'll take care of you," he whispered. "I'll always be here for you."

As you looked into his eyes, you felt a sense of trepidation. You had just made a decision that would change your life forever, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for the consequences.

But as you hugged him back. Jimmy had set a trap for you, and you had fallen right into it. You were 18 years old, and you had just given up your education and your future for a guy you barely knew. You were in love with him, but you were also scared. You didn't know what the future held, but you knew that you were in for a wild ride.

As the days turned into weeks, your life became a living nightmare. Jimmy was controlling and manipulative, and he made you feel like you were worthless without him. He would yell at you, belittle you, and make you feel like you were the only person in the world who was stupid enough to fall in love with him.

He made you block your friends' numbers and wouldn't let you talk to your parents. He isolated you from the world, and you felt like you were losing yourself. You were trapped in a toxic relationship, and didn't know how to escape.

But what really took you by surprise was Jimmy's reaction when you brought up job searches for him. He was in between jobs, and you thought it would be a good idea for him to start looking for a new one. But every time you mentioned it, Jimmy would become physically abusive.

"Don't you dare bring that up again," he would say, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'll find a job when I'm good and ready. You just focus on taking care of me."

And with that, he would grab your arm and twist it, or push you against the wall. You would cry and beg him to stop, but Jimmy just wouldn't listen. He was like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off at any moment. And then, one day, Jimmy's abuse went too far. He beat you so badly that you ended up in the hospital.

Jimmy would often make you feel like a child, talking down to you and making decisions for you. He would say things like "you're not mature enough to make your own decisions" or "you're too naive to understand what's good for you." He would take away your autonomy, making you feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself.

He would make you dress in a certain way, telling you what to wear and how to style your hair. He would control what you ate, what you watched on TV, and what music you listened to. He would even control how you spent your free time, telling you what hobbies to pursue and what activities to avoid.

You felt like you were living in a prison, with Jimmy as your jailer. As the months went by, you became a shadow of your former self. You became depressed, anxious, and felt like you were sufficating. You were trapped, with no way out. You had lost all sense of identity, all sense of self, a mere ghost of the person you used to be.

And then, Jimmy would tell you that he would never leave you. He would say that you were his, and that he would always take care of you. He would make you feel like you were dependent on him, like you couldn't survive without him. And you would believe him, because you had no one else to turn to.

You would try to make him happy, to please him in every way. You would cook his meals, clean his house, and cater to his every whim. You would be his personal servant, his slave. And he would reward you with affection, with attention. He would make you feel like you were loved, like you were worth something.

But it was all a lie. Jimmy didn't love you, and he didn't care about you. He only cared about himself, and what he could get from you.

And you would stay with him, because you had no one else. You had given up on your education, your friends, and your family. You had given up on yourself. You were completely dependent on Jimmy, and you knew it.

As the years went by, you became more and more entrenched in the relationship. You lost all sense of identity, all sense of self. You were just a shadow of your former self, a mere ghost of the person you used to be.

And Jimmy would continue to abuse you, to control you, to manipulate you. He would make you feel like a child, like a servant, like a slave. He would take away your autonomy, your freedom, your dignity. And you would stay with him, because you had no one else.

You were trapped, alone, and broken. You were a prisoner in your own life, with Jimmy as your jailer.

[grapejuice32]

Could you do Spencer + reader who is away fro work a lot and when she comes home with a few days off and important news to tell Spencer he has to leave before she wakes up because there was a case he had to go work

Make it work

Spencer Reid x reader

Notes: I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

When you woke that morning to the lack of Spencer's presence besides you in bed, you tried to push away the tears that stung your eyes. Obviously you knew that if he got the call from work, even on a day off, he would take it, it had always been that way and he was clear about that when the two of you first got together. It's not like today was an incredibly special occasion or anything, but it was one of the only days when you were not working and he had taken the day off of work to spend time with you. Your schedules were constantly clashing, with you being a rising star in the acting world, every opportunity to promote you new film was one you would take which at the moment meant you were currently travelling a lot for interviews, premiers, talk shows etc. You had only just come back to Washington the night before after a month of being away filming something new and you had taken the short 3 day filming break as an opportunity to deliver some important news to Spencer. He didn't know that you had anything to tell him, so you couldn't really fault him, after all, his role at work was vital and you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if you held him back from work while other people lost their lives because he didn't go and help out. And yet, you couldn't help the tears that lined your eyes, you felt pathetic you knew you could tell him over the phone, but you wanted to tell him in person.

You told yourself that perhaps they would be able to wrap up the case quickly and that he'd be able to make it home before you had to go back to LA. You sniffled and made you way out of bed and to the kitchen, a small smile making an appearance on your lips as you noticed a note in Spencer's scrawly handwriting on the counter besides a now cold cup of coffee he must have left out for you before he went to work. You picked up the note and couldn't help but bite your lip as a wider mile spread on your face at the sweet words.

Hi angel,

I'm so sorry I left but the team needed me on a case and I couldn't say no after I got given the details. I’m so sorry to leave you when we were meant to spend the day together, I hope you're not too upset but I'd understand if you were. Hopefully we can wrap up the case before you have to go and we can spend a bit of time together. I left you a coffee on the side but knowing you, it will probably be cold when you wake up. I love you, I'll try and give you a call later.

~ S

A sigh escaped you're lips, you weren't upset, disheartened perhaps but not upset. How could you be? There had been many occasions when you had be away for work when he got to have his weekend days off, and while it wasn't the same, travelling was a vital part of both your jobs and you were just lucky that the both of you were able to understand it and manage to make your relationship work even with the constant long distance time.

The two of you had been together for a year and a half and the majority of that time was spent apart, his team weren't really aware of you yet and you were okay with that. With the little time that the two of you got to spend together, going home to each other and knowing that you were both just each other's secret was exciting and strangely comforting in a way. Especially for you with so much of your life now being public, to know that you had Spencer, who was only yours never failed to bring a giddy smile to your lips. But he had told you the team knew something was going on with him, and that didn't surprise you with his being in a team of profilers. He'd also mentioned that possibly the main reason they were suspicious was that before you, he had such a lack of days that he took off from work that he was made to take compulsory holidays and after meeting you, he would actually request the days off and would leave the office at a reasonable hour to go home to you, sometimes before the rest of the team would. Even though you loved your and Spencer's relationship being a secret from his work life and your work life, you were also aware of the fact that his team were his family, and you knew that with the news you had to tell him, it wouldn't be long before he told the team about you. The thought of meeting them excited you, you wanted to meet the people that were so important to Spencer and the ones who looked out for him when nobody else did.

You spent the day tidying the apartment, you hated tidying but it was something that needed to be done, the apartment having fallen into Spencer's organised chaos. Your phone wasn't on silent like it usually was as you didn't want to miss is Spencer called, every notification you received you hoped it was a text from him but you were left disappointed. By the time it hit 1am, you had come to terms with him probably being too busy with the case so you sent him goodnight message and let him know you were okay before going to sleep. In the morning, you checked your phone to find a message from him that read 'Sleep well, I love you honey' and that made you feel better. It was clear to you that the case had him very busy, as they always did so you didn't expect to hear from him today either but you left the ringer on your phone on just in case. Not having much motivation to do anything and wanting to use your time off of work properly, you spent the day binging Gossip Girl and ordered Chinese takeout. Eventually you grew tried so, exactly like you had the night before, you sent him a message and went to sleep.

When you woke up, the first thing you did, after checking your phone, was pack your things. It was the last day of your break in filming and you would be catching a flight back to LA later that night as the first shot you had was an early morning shot so you had to be on set at 4.30am for hair and make up. After packing your things, you heard the sound your phone ringing, you were ecstatic to see Spencer's name on the caller ID.

You: Hi, Spence S: Hi, angel. Sorry it took my so long to call. You: Don't worry, you've been busy. I understand, Spence. How's the case going? S: It's...it's really tough, I doubt I'll be back in time to see you before you go back to LA. 'M really sorry, sweetheart.

You: Oh...

S: I'm so sorry, I know we were supposed to spend some time together but the team needed me.

You: I... um, 's fine, I get it, it's your job, it's important.

S: You're important too. 'M sorry, I really am.

You: Don't need to keep apologising, you can't control when people commit crimes.

S: When's your next filming break? Do you know yet?

You: Probably not for another month at least...

S: Oh, well we'll be able to make it through, we've done it before and for longer periods of time.

You: I know, it's just I...I really needed to um, I needed to...

S: Yeah?

You: It doesn't matter.

S: Sounds to me like it matters.

You: No it's whatever, you've got more important things to deal with right now.

S: If it's important to you then it's important to me too.

You: I just needed to tell you something, is all. But I um...yeah.

S: Sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything right?

You: Yeah, I know.

S: Whatever it is, you can tell me, angel.

You: I'm um, it's...well-

S: Fuck, 'm really sorry but I have to go, think we've had a break in the case.

You: Oh, oh yeah, okay.

S: Call me when you land, yeah?

You: Yeah.

S: I love you.

You: ...I-

The line beeped as the call disconnected, meaning he hung up on you before you got to finish what you were saying. You were mumbling though, talking slowly, maybe he couldn't hear you. Yeah, that's what it must have been, you nodded, trying to convince yourself.

You spent the hours leading up to your flight doom scrolling in bed before you had to make your way to the airport. On the flight back, you got lucky and had nobody sat next to you, you spent the time going over you script for tomorrow, not even able to drink to make you feel better. When you landed you shot him a text letting him know you were back in LA, when you arrived at the place you were living at for filming, you shot him another text letting him know you were home safe.

You continued on as normal for the next week, spending your time either filming, learning lines or sleeping with minimal contact from Spencer. He hadn't called you again and the only contact from him would be a short response to the messages you sent before you went to sleep. It was a week and a half since you had come back to LA when you finally got the message from him saying that they'd wrapped up the case and that he was on his way home. You were glad, you responded by telling him to make sure he got some proper rest, knowing how exhausted he would be when he came home from cases, only to stay up doing paperwork.

The following morning, you were woken up by a knock on your door which confused you since you didn't have anywhere to be until your evening filming and you hadn't made any other plans. You begrudgingly got out of bed and flattened your hair down as you made you way to the door. When you opened it, you were shocked to be met with the sight of sender stood there with a bouquet of pink lilies in his hands. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, thinking you must have been imagining it, but you weren't. Before you hugged him, you ushered him inside and then jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. The sound of his chuckle as his arms wrapped around your waist instantly bringing you a comfort only he could give you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in excitement as you let go of him, taking the flowers from his hands and putting them down on your coffee table.

He shrugged, "I wanted to see you." He spoke nonchalantly as he hung his jacket on the coat rack.

"You're crazy." You laughed, letting him follow you as you went to brush your teeth.

"Crazy for wanting to see my girlfriend? I don't think so." He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, his eyes locked on yours through the mirror.

After you brushed your teeth, the both of you went to lay in your bed, your head resting on his clothed chest while you spoke quietly to each other.

"Hey, what did you want to tell me?" He suddenly asked in the midst of a conversation.

"Oh, um," you nervously sat up, your legs crossed as you anxiously began to pick at your fingernails.

"Hey, none of that," he tutted as he too sat up, placing his hands on yours to stop you from picking and accidentally hurting yourself.

"I um, I have news..." you softly spoke.

"Okay, good or bad?" He asked, his voice gentle and calm.

"Well that depends, its..." you started, before stopping again afraid to tell him. You glanced up at him, his eyes as patient and understanding as ever. You let out a deep breath before deciding to just get it over with, "I'm um, I'm pregnant."

You were met with silence, you tried to gauge his reaction but the only immediate one you received was shock. After a minute of the silence killing you, you whispered, "Spence?"

To which he only hummed in response. You bit your lip before trying again, "Can you say something...?"

He blinked quickly, as if pulling himself from a trance, "That's great, angel. Really."

"You're not upset?" You frowned, not understanding the way he reacted.

"Of course I'm not, it's wonderful news!" He spoke with a smile now on his face, "Was just shocked is all, I thought we'd been careful. I was trying to get my head around it. ' M sorry if I scared you."

A long exhale of relief escaped you, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He pulled you in for a hug and neither of you said anything, it felt more real now for you that you'd told him.

"I'm scared," you whispered in his hold, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Me too, but we'll be okay. I'd be worried if we weren't a little scared," He joked, causing you to laugh tearily, he pulled back from you so that he could look dow at your face, "it's going to be okay, really. Means I'll have to finally introduce you to the team and face Derek's teasing but it's worth it and it's exciting."

You nodded, smiling softly up at him, "We're gonna have a baby."

He laughed in what sounded like disbelief, tears now lining his eyes, "Yeah. Yeah, we are."

You were glad you had him, you'd never been with somebody you had understood you as effortlessly as he did. You knew it would be tough, but you would make it work, you always did.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us ,, chap: 19 — let go ✎

// series index //

warnings: emotional rollercoaster? silly -> freaky -> cute -> sobbing (but in a good way!) i had to write this as quickly as possible, pls ignore the mistakes, i literally rushed it but i still think it's good !! 😣

nsfw warnings: lots of kissing (IT'S THEIR THING), tittie play, oral (f! recieving), dirty talk-ish??, protected sex.

wc: 5.2k+

note: probably my fave chapter haha

the cafe is quiet, the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups creating a relaxed atmosphere. it’s not crowded, just a handful of students scattered across tables. you and jungkook decided to meet up here, both having an hour to kill before your next class.

jungkook is sitting beside you, one hand intertwined with yours while his other hand holds his phone as he casually scrolls through his schedule for the day. he’s dressed in his usual casual style; sweatpants and a simple shirt that somehow manages to make him look unfairly attractive. his dark hair falls messily over his forehead, making him look effortlessly sexy. he's literally making it hard for you not to stare and drool over him.

he hums softly, almost to himself. “i could skip the next class if i wanted to,” he says, placing his phone down on the table.

you tilt your head, curious. “oh really?”

he nods, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “yeah, it’s just a lecture. i’ve already got the notes.”

before you can say anything else, a soft voice cuts in. “i am so glad i don’t have any classes after this,”

you glance at the silver haired man infront of you and smile slightly before another familiar voice speaks up. “yeah, guess what? i don’t even have classes anymore,”

jungkook chuckles beside you, his thumb brushing over your hand absentmindedly. “must be nice, hyung,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

yoongi and jimin are at your table too. jimin, the silver-haired guy you’ve seen before in a very awkward situation, is here to meet yoongi today. and to your surprise, he talks like you’ve been part of their group for ages, his energy is warm and welcoming, which you really appreciate.

jimin leans back in his chair, turning to yoongi. “you know, i was just thinking about that night.. the one when jason got punched.”

your stomach drops at the mention, and you shift in your seat, suddenly very interested in your cup of coffee.

“i was like, over there in the middle of the dance floor,” jimin starts as he recalls the scene. “i don't even know who i was with, there was some chick grinding on me and then POW! i heard the punch, and everyone just stopped and turned towards the sound. taehyung was already sprinting towards jungkook and jason, and oh my god, i was so ready to cheer for the fight!!!” he pauses. “but then i saw the look on yoongi's face and thought, ‘oop, never mind. gotta make it stop.’”

jimin chuckles and glances at yoongi, who shakes his head, clearly unimpressed by the retelling.

a few days after that night, jason apologized to you. it was awkward but sincere, and you listened as he explained himself, it was clear that he regretted it.

“i messed up, i know that,” he said,“i shouldn’t have pushed things the way i did. and, uh… i totally deserved that punch.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was acknowledging it so openly. “yeah, well. i am glad you're aware,” you said.

he sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “i guess it's time for goodbyes? i don't know, i don't think we're gonna get along well, especially since your boyfriend hates me.”

you were surprised at the ‘boyfriend’ title but you chose to ignore it and nodded slowly, “i get that, and yeah.. i think it’s best if we’re not friends anymore. i don’t want to keep dragging things out too,”

you watched him walk away. you haven’t talked to jason since that day, and this time, you knew you made the right choice.

jimin turns his attention to jungkook, who’s now watching him with an amused grin. “besides that, i thought it was fucking awesome, jungkook,”

jungkook chuckles softly, “yeah, getting into a fight with one of your friends is awesome now.”

jimin waves him off. “oh please i don't even care about him, he just happens to know a girl i used to fuck,”

“you’re lucky no one called the cops,” yoongi mutters, taking a sip of his coffee.

“oh, come on,” jimin says, grinning. “it wouldve been legendary, right jungkook?"

“i don't know, legendary or not ,” jungkook glances at you with a soft smile, “i’d rather not have a repeat of that night.”

you nod in agreement, grateful that the topic seems to be winding down. but jimin’s energy is contagious, and even though you’re a little embarrassed, you can’t help but smile at how he's excited about the 'fight'.

“well i think that he deserved it,” jimin announces playfully.

jungkook’s got that cocky grin on his face, the one that always makes you... well, horny. his hand casually slips under the table and onto your thigh. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers inching higher, sliding under your skirt. you glance at him, trying your best to act unbothered, even as your body betrays you with a slight shiver.

“he deserved it, didn’t he?” jungkook asks, his voice low and teasing, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the way he looks at you like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, makes you so fucking wet.

“yeah,” you manage to say softly, even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his hand gently stroking your inner thigh.

jimin interrupts with a playful grin. “i think ___'s awesome too, by the way. i saw that slap from miles away, and i was definitely cheering for you,” he pauses and gives yoongi a quick glance before continuing. “quietly, of course.”

you’re not embarrassed about the slap itself. honestly, to this day, you think she deserved far worse. but having it brought up so openly now, in front of everyone, makes you squirm a little.

“oh, um, yeah haha... thank you.” you mumble, feeling jungkook’s eyes on you. he’s smiling ear to ear, clearly entertained by your reaction.

yoongi clears his throat, his expression neutral but his tone laced with humor. “it’s good to see you two not being petty to each other anymore.”

both of your heads snap towards yoongi at the same time, and you chuckle nervously. jungkook smiles, slowly withdrawing his hand from under your skirt and intertwining it with yours on top of the table like nothing happened.

“we’re trying not to. at least i am,” jungkook says, half-joking, his tone so casual that you roll your eyes at him and without missing a beat, you kick him lightly under the table, shooting him a glare. jungkook shrugs a little and kisses your cheek and you can't help but smile.

yoongi and jimin watch the little exchange between you and jungkook, amusement evident on their faces. yoongi raises an eyebrow, shaking his head lightly, while jimin stifles a laugh behind his hand.

“you two are something else,” yoongi comments under his breath, earning a grin from both of you.

but neither of them presses any further, quickly falling back into their own conversation. jimin leans in closer to yoongi, gesturing something with his hands as he starts talking about something you can’t quite catch. yoongi listens intently, nodding along and occasionally throwing in a remark that makes jimin laugh.

their voices become background noise when you hear your phone ding, drawing your attention to the screen. you pick it up and unlock it, only to see a message from jungkook.

jungkook: you look so fucking hot rn, yk that?

you glance at him, raising an eyebrow as he sits there casually, his face unreadable except for the slight upward curve of his lips.

you type back quickly.

you: keep ur hands to yourself and be patient.

his phone buzzes and he checks the message, his grin widening as he types a reply.

jungkook: i am, baby. if i wasn't i would've ripped that skirt open and eat that pretty cunt of yours right now.

you feel your cheeks heat up, and he chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. you shove your phone into your lap, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered again, but the wetness building between your legs is saying something else.

jungkook is patient.

very patient.

no one's ever been this patient with you (except your parents, of course). your brother used to make fun of you—and still does—for having what he called "ridiculous standards." he’d tease you, saying that anyone who wanted to be with you would need the patience of a saint to deal with your stubbornness. back then, you’d laugh it off. but as you grew older, those words began to settle in your mind, twisting into a belief that maybe he was right.

that maybe no one could keep up with you.

you convinced yourself that your standards were too high, your stubbornness too much to handle. and the more you thought about it, the more it solidified into a quiet truth; you weren’t cut out for relationships.

but then theres jungkook.

he proved you wrong in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

he waited for you, even when you didn’t ask him to. even when you didn’t think anyone would. even when you were being stubborn as fuck.

he had this stubbornness to him that mirrored your own. when you were avoiding him, trying to brush him off with short responses or ignoring him altogether, he didn’t back down. he didn’t let you push him away.

he was like you in some ways, and that’s what made everything so frustrating annd oddly comforting at the same time. both of you were being immature about your argument, refusing to give in or apologize at first. but somehow, through all the tension and standoffs, he didn’t back off, and neither did you. and in a way, that’s what made it work.

and in other ways, you could probably say that... he matched your freak?

it was like he saw through all the walls you put up, and instead of trying to break them down, he just... stood there, waiting for you to let him in.

and when you did, he didn’t disappoint. he met every piece of you with something of his own, and it was messy, and it was imperfect, but it was real.

he’s the most patient man you’ve ever met, and the more time you spend with him, the more you realize just how much that patience means to you.

it’s in the way he looks at you, with so much love and care, as if he already knows you’re worth waiting for.

and you can’t stop loving him more and more for it.

but right now, in this moment, he's anything but patient.

jungkook's kissing you, hot and sloppy. his tongue grazes your bottom lip every few seconds, the kiss is wet, messy, and so fucking good.

he waited until you were done with your classes, but as soon as you stepped out, his patience snapped.

the next thing you knew; he was pulling you to his car and you didn't stop him because oh my god were you horny for this man. now you're in the back seat, ur hands tangled around his neck. one of his hands gripping your waist, and the other sliding under your skirt to rest on your thigh, squeezing it gently.

“fuck—does this remind you of something?” he pulls back, panting. his lips are swollen, and you can barely catch your breath.

“when we first—?” you start, breathless.

“yes,” he says, cutting you off with another kiss. you hum against his lips, melting into the way he moves.

“i fucking love kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, sending a rush of heat through you.

“kiss me more then,” you challenge, your lips brushing his as you speak.

he pecks your lips once, a smile spreading across his face. “let's go to your place first,” he says, his hand giving your thigh one last squeeze before he pulls back, leaving you wanting more.

. . .

“ow—s-stop!!”

you laugh as jungkook keeps kissing your neck, the way he's doing it is almost like he's tickling you. he smiles against your skin but doesn't stop, his hands firm around your waist as he guides you backward into your room.

“jungkook!” you squeal when you feel his hands slide down your waist to your thighs, and with ease, he lifts you up, carrying you through the doorway.

he finally stops his playful kisses when he reaches your bed, his lips parting from your skin as he looks at you. both of you are smiling, your foreheads gently pressed together as you both savor the moment.

“you're so pretty,” he whispers, his voice soft and he sounds so sincere.

you feel yourself melting at his words.

“are you trying to flirt with me?” you tease, raising an eyebrow,

he tilts his head slightly, mirroring your teasing grin. “yeah, i am,” he says, placing you gently on the bed. he climbs over you, taking off his shirt immediately and leaning down to you.

his lips brushing your jaw as he murmurs, “can’t i flirt with my girlfriend?”

a pause.

your hand cups his cheek, pulling him closer. his lips inch toward yours, but just as he's about to kiss you, you press your palm against his mouth, stopping him.

he frowns, confused, while you smirk teasingly.

“but you ain't my boyfriend,” you say softly, leaning up slightly to place a playful yet soft kiss on the back of your hand still covering his lips. “and i ain't your girlfriend.”

he smiles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with amusement. he gently grabs your wrist, lowering your hand as he leans closer.

“but you don’t want me to see nobody else?” he asks, his lips barely brushing yours, his voice low and matching your teasing tone.

you shake your head slightly, your words barely above a whisper. “and i don’t want you to touch nobody else.” you confess

“but i ain’t your boyfriend?” he counters softly, placing a delicate kiss at the corner of your mouth.

you hum as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the heat of his breath and the gentleness of his lips.

“baby, we don’t have to tell nobody,” he murmurs, his hands slipping under your cardigan to rest on your waist. his thumbs gently rub your skin, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

your smile mirrors his as his lips meet yours again, the softness of the kiss promising more than words ever could.

he kisses you softer this time, and you do too, both of you lost in the intimacy. your hands graze his face, then trail down to his neck, too preoccupied with the moment to think about anything else.

his hands gently lift your cardigan up. you help him remove it, and as the fabric falls away, his touch lingers on your skin. and next comes your bra. he leans back slightly, his lips never straying far from yours, his big hands undoing the clasp at your back. the straps slide down your shoulders, and soon, it's discarded.

his kisses shift lower, finding your neck, and you let out a soft gasp when his lips touch your collarbone. your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles. his hand catches your wrist gently, and he presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, making your heart flutter.

he moves lower, pressing soft kisses along your chest. his lips linger at the top of your breasts, and his large hand comes up to cup one of them gently.

“fuck…” he breathes out, his voice low and needy. his mouth finds your nipple, yyou can feel the warmth and wetness as he sucks it, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate motions. his other hand kneads your other breast, his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipple.

your head falls back, a quiet moan escaping your lips, your back arching toward him. he hums against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you crazy.

you feel completely consumed by him, every touch and kiss leaving you breathless.

your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, your skirt bunched up high, revealing the soft fabric of your underwear. his lips trail lower, leaving tender kisses along your stomach and hips, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. with care, he slides your skirt off, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed in nothing but your underwear.

“can i?” he asks as his head settles between your thighs, his gaze meeting yours.

“please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

he doesn’t hesitate. his fingers hook into the waistband, sliding your underwear down, baring you completely to him. his lips press soft kisses against your lower lips, and you shiver, your body already aching for him.

his fingers part your folds gently, and he pauses for a moment, his gaze fixated on your glistening arousal. his lips curl into a grin as he looks up at you, his eyes dark. “all for me?” he asks, his voice a husky murmur.

“all for you baby,” you manage to breathe out, your voice filled with desparation.

his grin widens, and he doesn’t waste another second. his tongue glides over your wetness in one slow, delicious stroke, and you gasp as pleasure courses through you. your thighs tighten around his head instinctively, pulling him closer as he devours you.

his tongue circles your clit, flicking and sucking gently before moving to lick broad, teasing strokes along your folds. his lips close around your sensitive bud, and he sucks softly, making you moan his name louder and louder.

“mmmph— so fucking— pussy so delicious,” he mutters, his words muffled against your heat. his voice vibrates against your core, adding to the overwhelming sensations building inside you as he continues his relentless rhythm, savoring every inch of your pussy.

his tongue slowly glides down to your aching hole, he licks up the wetness there and pushes his tongue inside you. he starts tongue fucking you and you swear you see the fucking stars.

he moves his head up and down and you can feel his nose rubbing against your clit whenever he moves. you're literally a moaning mess right now.

“mmmgh— j-jungkook so goodd!!”

he grabs your thighs, tight enough to leave marks. he continues tongue fucking you, occasionally pressing kisses and licks on your clit.

you cum.

it's all sloppy and messy, all over his mouth, and he fucking loves it.

he licks you up so good, moaning at the taste of you as you try to catch your breath.

“fuck me, jungkook, p-please,” you gasp, panting, as he rises from between your thighs, quickly removing the rest of his clothes to reveal his already hard dick, standing tall against his lower stomach.

“fuck me jungkook.. please” you moan

“yeah? you're gonna beg for it baby?” he strokes his cock, grunting a little. “gonna beg for my cock like a good girl?”

“y-yes, please fuck me,” you beg. “need you in me,”

he moans and leans down to kiss you. the kiss is hungry, desparate, sloppy and so fucking hot.

he puts on a condom as fast he can and he positions himself at your entrance, gently tapping his dick on your dripping pussy.

he groans. “you look so fucking sexy,” he says as he looks at you panting and moaning, your pussy clenching around nothing, and he loves the way you look so needy for him.

he pushes his thick length inside you, stretching you wide. you let out whimpers as you grip the bedsheets around you. your walls clenching tightly around his girth. he groans, his face contorting with pleasure as he starts to move slowly, his hips rolling back and forth.

“o-oh fuck, baby— good fucking— pussy—” his words come out muffled as his thrusts grow faster and more urgent, his pubic bone slamming against your clit with each thrust. you're crying out in pleasure, your hands grabbing at his back and arms as you try to hold on. he's fucking you hard and fast, his dick pounding into your pussy like there's no tomorrow.

he sinks deeper, filling you completely, “mmnh!!... so good,” you pant, voice strained with pleasure. with each thrust, he hits that sweet spot inside you, coaxing out whimpers and gasps.

“fuck, baby— love this tight little cunt,” he grunts

the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans. sweat beads on his forehead as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency, chasing his climax.

“g-god, you feel amazing,” he gasps, his eyes locked onto yours. “love how fucking wet and hot you are for me.”

your own pleasure builds, coiling tighter with each thrust. you arch your back, meeting him halfway, desperate for more contact.

“y-yes! yes, oh my god, jungkook—” you cry when picks up the pace even further.

with a final, deep push, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his body shuddering as he reaches his peak. you can feel his cock twitching inside you.

your legs tremble, fingers digging into his shoulders as you ride out the intense orgasm.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both pant and quiver in the aftermath. he presses gentle kisses to your neck

“i fucking love you.”

the next morning, you and jungkook are on the couch, in the living room, wrapped up in each other's warmth. you're peacefully sleeping with your head resting on his lap, while his fingers gently play with your hair. he's shirtless, and you can't resist softly tracing your fingers along his toned stomach and chest.

"you know what i think when i look at you?" jungkook asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. you hum in response, not fully awake.

"how can someone be this pretty?" he smiles down at you, his eyes sparkling, and you return the smile.

"back at ya," you reply with a playful grin.

"oh, you think i'm pretty?" he teases, his grin widening.

"yeah, of course! you're the prettiest," you say, your smile growing as you scrunch your nose, which he finds utterly adorable.

"what about hot?" he asks, his voice turning a little more playful. you sit up, shifting to climb onto his lap, and he smiles, his hands finding your waist to help you settle comfortably.

"the hottest," you respond, and he chuckles, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

the two of you lean in to kiss... but!!!

just as your lips are about to meet, the doorbell rings.

you sigh.

"must be the delivery guy or something," you say, and jungkook nods, pulling away from you. as you get up, jungkook gives you a playful slap on your ass. you yelp in surprise, and you can hear him laughing behind you as you make your way to the door.

you open the door, expecting to see a delivery person, but instead, your eyes widen in shock.

"what the fuck?" you say it out loud, clearly surprised by the sight in front of you.

"is this how you treat your guests?" a male voice calls out, sounding amused.

jungkook notices your surprise and quickly gets up, walking towards you to see what’s going on. "what happened, baby? who is it—" he stops mid-sentence when he sees a tall man standing in front of you. the man is holding a suitcase, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his face... perfect.

“who is this?” the man asks, his eyes never leaving jungkook, waiting for you to say something.

"who are you?" jungkook asks him, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulls you behind him.

the man frowns.

“geez guys, stop it!” you step forward, standing between them now. jungkook's eyes follow you, a little confused.

"jungkook, this is my.. older brother," you say, and jungkook's eyes widen in surprise. you turn to cal and continue. "and this is jungkook, my... well, you know—"

"oh, i know," cal interrupts, eyeing jungkook with a pointed look, his gaze scanning jungkook's shirtless body. jungkook fumbles awkwardly, trying to cover himself as he looks around for his shirt, only to realize you're wearing it.

oops, you think.

“nice to meet you, i am jeon jungkook,” jungkook introduces himself, his voice a little awkward as he bows slightly to your brother. he’s clearly trying to make a good impression, but the situation he's in right now is the worst.

your brother glances at you, and you subtly mouth, ‘be nice’ to him. cal rolls his eyes, clearly not amused, but he lets out a small sigh and turns back to jungkook, holding out his hand.

jungkook, not missing a beat, reaches out and shakes his hand firmly, though still trying to mask the awkwardness.

“i’m calvin.”

“is this how you live?” your brother muses, his eyes scanning the room as he settles onto the couch where you and jungkook had been cuddling just a moment ago, taking in the surroundings with a critical eye.

“mind your own business,” you reply as you set a glass of water on the table. cal grabs it, grinning at you as he takes a sip.

“i was gonna say it suits you,” cal remarks, casually taking a few gulps of the water before setting it down on the table.

“okay, mr. richie rich,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and cal smiles.

just then, jungkook comes out of your bedroom, now fully clothed, walking towards you and cal. cal’s eyes narrow slightly, his expression hard to read. you catch it, but before he can comment, you give your brother a little kick in the leg. cal scowls, not expecting it.

you move over to jungkook, and he instantly wraps an arm around you, and he feels a little more at ease. cal notices this shift in the air, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” you ask your brother, sitting down next to jungkook on the other couch, trying to act casual.

“i did tell you,” cal points out, his tone unbothered.

“no, you didn’t—” you pause, thinking for a moment. “that was weeks ago!”

cal just shrugs, his face unapologetic. “i told you, didn’t i?”

you roll your eyes, clearly not impressed.

cal leans back on the couch. "oh yeah, mom and dad sent you some stuff," he says nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal.

you furrow your brows, a little confused. "what stuff?" you ask, glancing between him and the suitcase he brought in with him.

"in the suitcase," cal replies, pointing at the bag. "you know, your old stuff. i also saw that plushie you always used to play with."

at the mention of the plushie, you feel something in your chest. you don’t even think twice before getting up and walking over to the suitcase. jungkook watches your every movement, curious.

you open it carefully, your hands trembling slightly as you sift through your old belongings. when your fingers brush against the familiar fabric of the plushie, you pull it out, immediately hugging it tightly to your chest.

cal watches, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "yeah, that ugly fat guy," he comments, and you glare at him and he just laughs softly, immediately apologising.

you clutch the plushie closer, but as you look down at it, you notice a small tag attached to it, and you read the words on the tag aloud: “we realised that we can let go now.”

the realization hits you, and a wave of emotions rush over you.

mom and dad..

it makes your throat tighten and your eyes well up with tears. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but it’s hard. you hug your totoro plushie tighter, a pout forming on your lips.

both jungkook and cal notice it. jungkook smiles softly, his eyes warm, while cal looks at you, his eyes softening.

for a moment, cal doesn’t say anything. he watches as you hug the plushie tightly, your fingers clutching it as though you’re afraid to let it go. despite the teasing earlier, he can’t help but see you as the same little sister who used to carry that plushie around everywhere.

he remembers the way you’d refuse to sleep without it, how you’d drag it around by one arm. you were always so stubborn. you were always insisting that it wasn’t just a toy, it was your “friend.” and now, seeing you holding it again, it’s as if time has rewound.

he can only see you as the same little girl, clutching your plushie like it’s your whole world, and it makes his heart ache a little— but in a good way.

“we’re proud of you, you know,” cal says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

you and jungkook both look at him, a little surprised.

“yes, we,” he repeats, his smile growing as he starts to list, “me, mom, dad, totoro, noisy boy-” he chuckles as he recalls some memories. “we’re all proud of you, little star.”

his words hit you hard. it breaks you, completely.

you bury your face in totoro, clutching the plushie tightly as the tears begin to fall freely. soft, shaky sobs escape your lips, and cal doesn’t hesitate. he stands and moves to kneel beside you on the floor, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. his hand strokes your arm gently, up and down, a comforting rhythm as you cry into his side.

“i missed you,” you manage to say through the tears, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

cal’s smile softens even more. “me too,” he whispers, his voice quiet but filled with warmth.

jungkook kneels down in front of you, his gaze filled with nothing but tenderness. cal looks at him, their eyes meeting for a moment, and with a small, approving smile, cal nods at him.

jungkook seems to understand immediately. he reaches out, gently pulling you into his arms. you let yourself be held, your sobs gradually quieting as he rubs soothing circles on your back.

cal watches the two of you, his chest tightening in a bittersweet way. he sees how jungkook wipes away your tears with careful hands, murmuring something about totoro that makes you chuckle softly through the emotions.

jungkook presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment before he pulls back to look at you. his eyes full of love and reassurance, and it’s enough to make cal feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re in good hands.

and all cal can think as he watches the two of you is,

we can let go now.

note: one more chapter :(( i have so much to say about owiu i am gonna cry (already did writing the last part,, idk i am js really emo today)

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

[faynthearted]

a/n: a drabble for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested tianshan talking about loved ones they've lost during the holidays, and @faery-moss, who requested morning cuddles and tianshan's first Christmas together. enjoy! <3

----

When he was younger, Guan Shan never slept on Christmas Eve. He’d try, but the excitement, the anticipation, would fuel him the entire week leading up to Christmas. He’d lay in bed until the first rays of sunlight fell into his bedroom, then he’d race to wake up his parents. They always woke with a smile as he climbed into their bed.

Now, He Tian smiles as he lies in Guan Shan’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs against Guan Shan’s lips when he wakes, still sleep heavy. “I think your mom is already up. I heard the sink running.”

“Yeah,” Guan Shan mumbles, wrapping around him. He’s warm and too big for a twin sized mattress. Guan Shan has never complained about it. “She likes to make breakfast right away on holidays."

“It smells sweet.”

“It’s stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit on top. Since you’re here, she’ll probably pull out all the stops and make muffins, too.”

He Tian hums, pleased. “I must admit I feel awfully special whenever I come over,” he says. “I should’ve brought her another gift.”

“God, no,” Guan Shan tells him, because he already helped He Tian wrap two presents for her the other day: a gold necklace and a scarf. They're sitting under the small tree in the living room. Anything more and she would begin to ask Guan Shan more questions than she already does. Guan Shan is beginning to run out of ways to tell her that yes, He Tian is a very good friend, and no, Guan Shan doesn’t know what his parents do for work.

He Tian huffs a laugh. He’s in good spirits already, eyes bright and hands warm as he shifts their weight, settling on top of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan lets him kiss him, but a few moments in, He Tian pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He Tian’s touch lingers on his side. Waiting.

Eventually, Guan Shan breathes out. There's an awful dread building in his throat. He says, “Tell my mom that breakfast was good after we’re done eating. Even if it wasn't, tell her it was."

“Of course I will,” He Tian says and Guan Shan doesn't doubt it. “I’m sure it will be good. I’ve had her cooking before. Is she— is it usually not good?”

Bringing up his hands, Guan Shan presses them into his eyes. “No,” he mumbles, “it’s good. But just tell her that it is anyway, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it, but make a point of it at least."

“Okay.” After a moment, He Tian’s fingers wrap around his, pulling them down. “What’s wrong, ah-Shan? What’s this about?”

Guan Shan swallows. He’s had an awful pit in his stomach since yesterday, though he’d done a well enough job of hiding it. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe He Tian saw right through it the entire time. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at him like this.

He Tian's smile is gone now and Guan Shan feels stupidly selfish.

“My dad used to be in charge of Christmas breakfast," Guan Shan says, looking away. "He always made the same thing. The french toast. Breakfast was the first thing we'd do once we all woke up. And it— it’s fucking impossible not to be reminded of that every year. It ruins everything for me. My mom got the recipe from him and she’s always done a good job since he’s been gone, but…”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. If he was a better person, he’d be able to say that the breakfasts are now a tribute to his father. That they're a piece of him that Guan Shan and his mother get to honor and carry with them, but it's always felt more like a gaping wound that never closed. When it’s just him and his mom sharing breakfast each year, they make light of the situation, but there’s always an inevitable lapse of silence that’s impossible to ignore.

Today will be the first time in nine years that there’s a third person at the table. Guan Shan wants He Tian here — he asked him to be here — but he doesn’t want to endure the suffocation of another holiday. He doesn’t want He Tian to see the evidence of Guan Shan’s broken origins, laid out on a tablecloth with ceramic plates and silverware.

It’s Christmas. They’re supposed to be grateful; happy. Bright and in good spirits, like He Tian.

After a minute, He Tian brings Guan Shan’s fingers to his lips.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” He Tian starts, speaking against his skin, “because I didn’t want to… ruin the day, or make it about me. But I understand, Guan Shan. The impossibility, I mean. I got your mom the scarf because you said she’d like that color, but I got her the necklace because that’s what my mom asked for every year. A gold necklace. My brother would either get her matching earrings or a charm to add onto it and we’d wrap them in the same box. She loved it, but she died a couple weeks before Christmas one year. I was never able to give her that last necklace.”

He turns Guan Shan’s hand over, pressing a kiss to his palm. There's a pause, his eyes gone distant. Eventually, he lowers Guan Shan's hand.

“Christmas fucking sucks, sweetheart,” He Tian continues, offering a small, closed-lip smile. “I hate it. It's ruined for me, too. But that’s because I usually wake up alone, and I’m not expecting a nice breakfast, and I don’t have a mother to give a necklace. It’s different this year even if it’s not exactly what I had as a kid. It won’t get easier, but it can get better. You’re showing me that. I want to do the same for you.”

They hold each other's gaze. A pot clangs in the kitchen, muffled through the walls. Guan Shan thinks he can hear his mother humming a holiday song. It makes his eyes sting.

He pulls He Tian back down to him, and they lay in bed as the smell of blueberry muffins wafts under his bedroom door.

[worldly-fluster]

WARNING: ANGST

Talk of wanting to commit unalive.

You have been warned.

The LADS boys when...they find your 'Diary'

--Zayne-- Part 3 of 4

This is gonna be...fun lol

Zayne-

•He knew, somewhat, of what happened. In the time that he was gone, he knew something happened.

•Before he left, when you were younger kids, you were so...bratty. He may have looked like he hated it but he just couldn't get enough of you, as you were.

•He left in order to learn more, to help your heart.

•But when he was finally able to come back, when he saw you again...it was like whiplash.

•You were so quiet. So...withdrawn.

•This won't do.

•He knew you didn't speak about your family anymore. He didn't pry, they were full of themselves before he left, probably nothing changed with them so he saw no point in worrying.

•So he worked, even more, to get you to come back. His little bratty childhood friend.

•He succeeded after a while. You were confident again, acting like the kid you were a long time ago but...more mature this time.

•Though he may not like that your job puts you in harms way, but he couldn't force you to stop something that made you happy.

•He saw your eyes gleam when you saved lives. He couldn't, wouldn't ever even try to take that away from you.

•Today was no different.

•You just successfully defeated one of the most powerful Wanderers the association has seen in a while, yeah there were casualties but there were more survivors than wounded. Thanks to your quick thinking.

•He took you out to celebrate, after checking you were unharmed.

•You both went to an old restaurant that you used to go to as kids, he wanted to see you happy with memories.

•What he didn't expect was to run into your Mother and...some random man?

•You all stared at each other for a few seconds before Zayne stepped between you and smiled, stiffly.

•"Oh Hi Zayne, it's been a while. How are things?"

•While Zayne talked with your mother, he figured out a few things.

•Your parents got divorced, and your mother is... a complete narcissist.

•She married another narcissist, perfect for each other.

•The whole conversation took a turn however when they asked what you did for a living...

•When told, your Mother frowned.

•"So you were one of the people who failed so save those innocent lives lost?" "No wonder they died. Maybe you should have tried harder."

•When you told her that you got hurt trying your best, she frowned deeper.

•"Still, if I were you I would have tried harder and if that wasn't enough I would have sacrificed myself. I wouldn't be able to live with myself, like you, because I have a soul."

•Upon hearing this, Zayne understood more of why you stopped being around your mother.

•Zayne quickly came up with a work emergency, saying that he was your ride and you left most of your things in his car so he'll take you with him.

•He took your hand gently, paid the bill, and led you away to his car.

•He could feel icy hot anger creeping up his back, he knew if he heard anymore he would accidentally use his evol.

•He loved you since the beginning. He couldn't stand hearing that and knowing that you used to believe that... hopefully you don't anymore, not if he can help it.

•He drove you home and both of you decided to stay inside to read a few books you have yet to read.

•When you got home, you immediately went to take a shower, to get your thoughts together, while Zayne looked through the surprisingly large selection of books.

•While searching, he saw one of your old notebooks that he would see you write in sometimes. He's asked about it and you told him he could read it at a later date.

•He figured now was the later date, so he picked it up to read.

•Only a few pages on and he realized what you ment by 'later'.

•This notebook is the equivalent to writing a Will...and he didn't like how you were 'talking' about your death coming sooner or later whether it be by natural causes or your own hand...he definitely didn't like that part.

•He kept reading, thinking that maybe he should have convinced you to therapy, but he saw something about how you have been to too many therapists and you're sick of it, so he decided not to worry about it quite yet.

•He got to the last entry, which seemed pretty recent, when he heard your shower stop so he immediately snapped the book shut and put it back where he found it, picking up a random book next to it. Something called 'Forgiving what you can't forget', he doesn't know where you got this one nor does it look like something you would buy yourself.

•The entire time you all were reading together, he kept glancing from his book to you and the notebook.

•He decided he was definitely going to make sure that nothing in that book will come to fruition. If it's the last thing he does.

**I'm working on Rafayel's as we speak lol the last one, and imma try and make that one extra angsty cause I'm realizing most of you are Rafayel girlies 😘**

[sosaysdean]

Frank Ieros segment in the recent First Ever Podcast episode.

Transcript under cut

Jeremy: Alright i’m so lucky to be joined by Mr. Frank Iero of LS Dunes and My Chemical Romance. How are you Frank? It’s so nice to see you

Frank: I’m doing good. It’s so nice of you to say that you’re lucky to do this (laughs)

Jeremy: (laughs) I am lucky to do this I am, I am.

Frank: I felt lucky to receive your text.

Jeremy: Aw that’s very. That’s very sweet. Uh, how are you feeling today? You doing alright? You uh, you ready for the holidays?

Frank: I got my tissues out, I’m fucking dealing with some sort of cold that I can’t pin point. So par for the course you know.

Jeremy: You know what’s..I feel like everybody right now. Everybody I know right now has some form of the sniffles, but let’s look at the positive because we’re a few days away still from actual holidays so, hopefully it’s passed through your system by, by the time right

Frank: That’s what I’m hoping for. That is what I’m hoping for (laughs). I’m hoping, yeah, that Santa brings me a fucking cure. How’s that? (Laughs)

Jeremy: (Laughs) um, okay. Well. Your question that I’m gonna ask you my friend is, when is the official first day of the christmas season? This is a contested thing.

Frank: Yeah

Jeremy: So I’m curious for you. What for you is the first day?

Frank: I don’t know exactly, but I do know it’s not Halloween, which they keep fucking pushing on us (laughs). And it’s not the day after Halloween either like fuck that like. First off, I think the first thing I have to say is I don’t actually like Christmas. (Laughs) so.

Jeremy: That’s okay

Frank: So I would like it to be, you know, I think the first day of Christmas should be Christmas Eve, and then Christmas, and then that’s it. And then fucking get out of here with it. (Laughs) So maybe that’s an unpopular opinion but, but that’s the way I feel. You, you get those two days, and then shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear Christmas music everywhere I go for fucking six months like I’m not, I don’t wanna hear that shit. I don’t want everything to smell like some sort of Christmas spice. I don’t fucking want eggnog. I don’t want. I don’t want, what’s the other shit that you, nutmeg in everything. I don’t want any of that.

Jeremy: (laughs) Um okay do you feel similarly about the Thanksgiving season, like are you, do you feel the same way about pumpkin spice?

Frank: Fuck that no no. Pumpkin’s great.

Jeremy: (Laughs) okay okay okay so what’s, is there a root to when this happened, like was there a specific thing that set off the christmas, the, the, the grinch in you?

Frank: (laughs) I think it’s encroachment man. I think it’s just fucking been an encroachment I think is what’s happening. Uh I feel like they’re trynna push us out and I’m not having it.

Jeremy: I, I um, I, the punk side of me I fundamentally agree with how it feels like the capitalism is the, is at the forefront of the motivation that you’re talking about. It’s like when you walk into a, you walk into a rite-aid and you’re like yo it’s October 20th why are you playing this goddamn Paul McCartney song

Frank: Oh my god. Dude. (Laughs). And that’s the thing too it’s. Alright. Listen I’m not trynna say like I’m not like you know, crass incarnate here like. But like, I really do enjoy Thanksgiving because it’s about you know you’re getting together with people that you care about, you’re sharing a meal and stuff like that. You know, if you’re not a turkey like it’s a pretty good fucking day. You know

Jeremy: (Laughs)

Frank: I don’t understand why like, oh yeah we have to get somebody a gift for fucking, I don’t know, like, Labor Day. Like fuck out of here with that like. You know what I mean. I don’t understand. I really don’t.

Jeremy: I thoroughly appreciate the honesty and I appreciate your uh, your very um, mature take.

Frank: (laughs)

Jeremy: On the first day of, on the first day of Christmas, or uh, Christmas season. And I agree with you. I absolutely agree with you

Frank: Alright I appreciate it. You’re the first one to ever call me mature so thank you very much (laughs). That’s great

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 26

Personal Development Tools and Resources

Yesterday we talked about creating accountability plans, and today I want to build on that momentum by sharing some amazing tools and resources that have genuinely transformed my personal growth journey.

Think about the last time you scrolled through your phone, looking at all those self-improvement apps you downloaded but never really used. We've all been there! Today, I want to share what's actually worked for me.

The Simple Tools That Work Wonders

First up, journaling! But wait, before you roll your eyes, hear me out. I'm not talking about writing novels every morning. Sometimes it's just a quick brain dump while having coffee, or a few grateful thoughts before bed. (Quick tip: if you're new to journaling and self-reflection, you might want to check out my free Self-Worth Mini Workbook, it's got some really gentle prompts to get you started!)

Digital tools have been game-changers too. I absolutely love:

Notion for organizing my entire life (seriously, it's like having a second brain)

Insight Timer for meditation (the free version is amazing!)

Goodnotes for digital journaling.

Creating Your Sacred Space

Something that's really helped me is creating a dedicated space for personal development. It doesn't have to be fancy, mine's just a cozy corner with:

A comfortable cushion

My favorite journal and pens

A small plant (because why not?)

A few inspiring books

Speaking of books, these have been life-changing:

"Atomic Habits" by James Clear

"The Mountain Is You" by Brianna Wiest

"You Are a Badass" by Jen Sincero

View the full list here

Making It Work For You

The key is finding what naturally fits into your life. Maybe you:

Start with just 5 minutes of morning reflection

Use your commute time for personal development podcasts

Set up a simple evening routine for goal review

(By the way, if you're ready to dive deeper into creating sustainable personal growth practices, my Inner Glow Bundle has some amazing tools for this, but let's focus on getting those basics down first!)

The Power of Community

Never underestimate the power of connecting with others on the same journey. Some great ways to do this:

Join online communities (like this one!)

Find an accountability partner

Share your journey on social media

Participate in group challenges

Remember This, the most powerful tools are often the simplest ones. Don't get caught up in thinking you need the fanciest apps or most expensive programs. Start with what you have, where you are.

What's one tool or practice you're excited to try? Let me know in the comments below! I love hearing about your journeys and learning from your experiences too!

See you tomorrow for Day 27!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[dododan]

@lemonlamblaura

Sometimes the right place and time is needed to ask such a question.

The right reading of the moment, the emotions of the other person.

Just what if the other person puts on so many masks that you no longer know which one is real?

You thought this was the right moment. You sat in the front row at his sermon. You absorbed his every word. You listened intently and eagerly to his sermon as if it was directed only to you. You had the impression that your eyes met several times. It was as if he was giving you a sign that he was here for you.

It then crossed your mind that you would ask him about it today. After the sermon, you waited until everyone had left. You knew that he always waited until all the faithful had left the temples. That an his custom.

He approached you, seeing that you were still sitting in the pew.

“Are you leaving, or did something happen?” He asked gently extending his hand toward you. As if wanting to help you get up.

You did so abruptly. You caught his hand in yours, drawing it to your heart. You didn't notice that he flinched. You practically shouted this in one breath.

“I really, really like you! Will you marry me?”

The first thing you saw were those red eyes.

Usually you saw that beauty and softness in them. That's what you loved. But today you saw something you had never seen. You can't define what it is. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

“What an audacious request, don't you think?” His voice was waspish. Cold, as if you were standing in a field in the middle of a blizzard. He leaned toward you whispering in your ear. “You lurked in the temple, knowing that the time after the sermon is one of the few moments I have to myself, and you dare to disturb it.” He was so close. In another situation you would have enjoyed such attention from him, but not now. Not in this way. “What made you think I would accept it? Because YOU like ME? Do you think that's enough?”

He straightened up. He towered over you, and a coldness radiated from his stature. Those red eyes drilled into your soul. They were drilling it to the core, as if searching persistently for something.

It's time for you to make your move, mortals.

What will you do?

Will you run away knowing that you will then face punishment for insulting your God, or will you try to placate him after all?

I don't advise lying, mortals. Remember that you are talking to the God of Pestilence, who is able to see through your thoughts.

[bwat5-blog]

A Heart Imprisoned: Vi's Time In Stillwater

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Vi is all of fifteen years old, when she is kidnapped by the Sheriff of Piltover himself and thrown into the bowels of Stillwater prison. There she will spend seven years of horror, isolation, abuse, and fear. Accused of no crime, with her name not even on the record, she has no hope of escape or mercy until the naïve rookie Enforcer who will change her life comes to her cell.

What I want to try and delve into today, is the impact these seven years have on Vi as a person. Vi continues to be one of the most grossly misunderstood characters in this show. Even now I can come up with no logical explanation as to why, but that's okay. I don't think logic plays a big part in the anti-Vi crowd's day-to-day anyway. But! Still we soldier on, and hopefully by the end of this I can illuminate a tragic part of this remarkable character's story in a worthwhile way, and lend even more to the cause of helping see the humanity in her story.

Lead Up:

I have covered the events of Vi's childhood in heavy detail in other documents. So here, I will just run down a quick list for understanding.

Sees death of birth parents on bridge of progress: Age 9

Spends 6 years as part of family with Powder, Vander, Mylo and Claggor: Age 9 - Age 15

Vander, Mylo and Claggor all die violently in front of her. She barely survives brawl with more than ten armed thugs working for Silco, she is wounded during incident, she is separated from Powder in traumatic manner that leaves her ravaged by guilt.

Imprisoned for seven years until Caitlyn Kiramman frees her: Age 15 - Age 22.

To say Vi's life even before Stillwater has been harsh is a mild understatement to say the least. She begins her story in tragedy. And even though Vander and her siblings love her, the undercity is a hard and dangerous place to grow up. She is not saying things like "wanna see how that ends" to a knife wielding attacker at fifteen years of age because her life has been easy.

We also need to review a few telling things about Vi before her imprisonment to better understand the teenage girl who is sent to Stillwater.

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens, its on you"- This lesson of Vander's will come to haunt Vi's life for years. He gives her this speech entirely from a place of love and support, talking to her about being aware of the consequences of her decisions as the other kids look up to her. But when things go so..so wrong. Vi internalizes this to the point that she is unable to move on from the guilt of what occurred.

"I grew up knowing I'm less than them, that my place is down there. I want Powder to have more than that, and I'm willing to fight for it."- Take note of what she says. She doesn't protest that she isn't less than.. only that she wants Powder to have more. Vi tells us so early that she doesn't see more for herself. Only more for those that she loves, and that she is willing to bleed for it. And she will... over and over..

"I know you wanna hurt the topsiders for what they've done to us. But who are you willing to lose?"- Again, another of Vander's lessons that Vi tries to take to heart. it leads her to try and make the right decision to protect those she loves, and through no fault of her own ends with Vander taken, and Benzo and Grayson dead. She tried to stop fighting. Tried to lead with her heart and the world crushed her as a reward.

"You've got a good heart. Don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you"- See above.

"Take Care of Powder"- Again, this one is tough. Vander's last words to Vi are not of comfort to her, but instructing her. I am NOT bagging on Vander. Had things not gotten even worse Vi would have been the leader of their family now and Vander knew she could do it and was trying to help her be strong. Unfortunately, because things go so terribly, all it is is another source of guilt driving Vi into the dark.

Losing Powder:

Tragically, Powder in an attempt to save her families life detonates a monkey bomb that kills Mylo and Claggor, and initiates the series of events leading to Vander's death as well. All when they were so close to escape. Powder is a little girl. this is NOT her fault. And she is shocked when she comes around the corner to meet Vi's rage instead of praise...

But as I have stated. Vi was only fifteen and having been through all that she had, lashes out at her little sister. Hitting her, calling her a jinx, and aggressively grabbing her face before walking away in horror at her actions, stolen by Marcus before she can make it right.

Conclusion: So what does that all mean in a nutshell? A fifteen year old girl who has already lived a life of loss, and violence, has her entire family taken away her violently in one night, save for the little sister she feels she has betrayed. She is then thrown in a terrible, hellish prison, with the only thing to focus on being the loss of her family, Vander's lessons, and how she believes she failed him, her brothers, and most importantly, her sister.

"I spent so many nights, in that shitty prison. On the freezing floor, hungry, bloody, counting the hours. The only thing.. the only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting back to you."

In Stillwater:

Thankfully for all of us who don't hate this character for breathing, we see none of what happens to her while she is in here outright. But there are a few things we know:

She is routinely assaulted- When she and Caitlyn are speaking she says to just send in whoever is going to hurt her so she can get on with her night. The warden confirms this with absolutely zero shame. And when Caitlyn opens Vi's cell, Vi is rolling her shoulders out like she is getting ready to fight.

There is no record of her or her crimes - Marcus locked her up with no trial, no paper trail, no nothing. She would have been kept there forever. Routinely beaten and totally stripped of her identity. Gee, I wonder why she tattooed her name on her face. They tried to erase her from existence.

She isn't in solitary all the time, as she had access to the tattooed goon she keeps wrecking throughout the show- I'd say this is probably the only reason she is at least slightly functional and still able to socialize in the real world to some degree.

A Layman's Understanding Of The Impact On Her:

First and foremost lets dispense with the obvious. I am not a mental health professional of any kind. But as an adult with a basic understanding of people I feel confidant saying that seven years in a violent prison being victimized and assaulted are what leads to the guarded young woman who has turned her body into a weapon that Caitlyn Kiramman meets that day. Cut off from any kindness, or love, or understanding Vi has hardened herself to the outside world because the last time she tried to do otherwise, her entire life was taken from her. And I am not going for the pity points or for dramatics. But she was fifteen... I'm going to guess something akin to her crying for someone to help her, or for her sister and than being viciously beaten is not outside of the realm of possibility. Her entire life has taught her over and over that the only thing she has to offer is her ability to do violence. An article from the University Of Santa Cruz a few years ago gives us more trustworthy information than my blathering:

"many prisoners "believe that unless an inmate can convincingly project an image that conveys the potential for violence, he is likely to be dominated and exploited throughout the duration of his sentence."

"prisoners may come to think of themselves as "the kind of person" who deserves only the degradation and stigma to which they have been subjected while incarcerated."

"For some prisoners, incarceration is so stark and psychologically painful that it represents a form of traumatic stress severe enough to produce post-traumatic stress reactions once released."

The need to keep up walls and hide their vulnerability, the hidden inner belief they are not worth any better, and deep seated trauma even manifesting as PTSD. Sound familiar? Not to mention the fact that is all started for her when she was fifteen and in the wake of a terrible loss.

I have seen many people lambasting Vi over her inability to cope with change or see that her sister has changed. Let me ask you folks a question. You see your entire family die in front of you, you are almost killed, you get thrown in a horrific and violent prison for no reason holding on to the hope of your last surviving family member, and then you get out and the sweet little girl you were ripped away from is a MURDERING. MENTALLY ILL. TERRORIST (Don't yell at me Jinx fans I'm just proving a point). How well do you think your going to cope?

This is just a drop in the bucket and absolutely a layman trying to learn a-little about how something so terrible would impact someone's emotional and mental health. But it was worth exploring. Like the grouchy broken record I am I have continued to proselytize to all of you regarding the humanity at the core of Arcane being its true heart. So the misunderstanding of perhaps the most human character in the show, someone who wants so badly to love, be loved, and to stand for those she cares for, well... Suffice it to say, I will keep playing this song for as long as I need to.

As always thank you for reading! Keep standing up for stories that matter. See ya next time.

[supernatural-sophia]

Ao3 down? Here is a fic to help you through this tough time

I may have already posted this before but you know what.. sue me

(CH 1) ·:*¨༺ Looking Like You Just Woke Up ༻¨*:·

Dean breathed heavily watching the orange tear appear. He is immediately taken back to the last time Cas died when Jack was born. He remembers cradling Castiel’s lifeless body trying not to cry. Now, similar to last time, Jack is bringing Cas back, but this time he needs help. Dean looks back at his brother, who gives a nod of approval before he steps into the inky darkness.

Dean had no explanation for it, but he knew where to go. Even in walking in a darkness that was the equivalent of having your eyes closed, he knew where Cas was. He kneeled into the ink and grabbed a hand. Bright blue orbs looked upon him with no recognition behind them. Dean wanted to cry out and scream explaining that it was him and this was a rescue, but he knew he had to stay quiet so he wouldn’t wake up the Empty. Dean hulled Castiel’s almost lifeless body over his shoulder and dragged him towards the slowly closing portal. 

Within a few steps to the portal, almost to safety, the angel in Dean’s arms let out a feral scream, instantly waking the Empty up. The angel squirmed in his arms as they stepped out of the portal. Dean looks back seeing the Empty, wearing Meg’s face, screaming about staying out before the portal closes. 

Dean was expecting a mildly upset Castiel, who sacrificed himself for Dean’s safety, but was met with a terrified angel jumping out of his arms and running into a corner, pulling his wings into vision and wrapping them around himself. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered. He wanted a happy reunion. No more big bad, no more hidden feelings, just him and Cas retired on the beach (or more realistically in the bunker). “Jack, what’s going on? Why is he like this?” Dean demanded. 

“I-I don’t know. He was in the empty a lot longer this time. Maybe it messed him up a bit. When I go back to heaven, I can ask other angels to see if they may know,” Jack tried to calm the upset Dean down. It had taken a few days to trick and defeat God, then Jack had to help jump-start heaven back up, which wouldn’t run without a god’s power, then Jack had to find time to talk to a sober Dean, which was almost impossible to do. 

“Great. Just Great,” Dean huffed. He turned his attention back to the quivering angel on the floor, who was peaking up from the wings, bright blue, curious eyes making contact with Dean’s worried, green eyes. “Hey, buddy.” Dean crouched down by the angel. Castiel pushed himself further up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller.  “Cas, do you remember us?” Dean asks. The only response he gets is the wings tightening around the angel. 

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “We don’t know what the Empty really does to angels. He never spoke about his experience before he woke up in the empty. Maybe there was a reason.” Dean only nodded back, trying to figure out what to do to help his angel. “Dean. Give him some space. He’s going to need time.” Dean slowly backed away from his broken best friend. 

“I need a drink,” Dean says before rushing out of the bunker. 

 ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“Thought I wasn’t going to see you today,” the bartender says to Dean, who just grunts back. 

“Just give me the strongest thing you’ve got,” Dean says wiping a hand over his face. 

“Tougher day than normal?” the bartender, named Anthony, asks. “You seemed to have been in a better mood yesterday.” 

“Yeah, well things don’t always go the way we want,” Dean grumbled before starting to drink. 

“No, they don’t,” The bartender sighed. Dean had been coming to this bar every night since they defeated Chuck. As Dean felt the alcohol finally affecting his mind, he became more willing to speak to Anthony, another habit that has happened every night. 

“You know the guy I told you about?” Dean slurred. “Cas.” 

“Yes, I remember. He passed about a year ago now. Is this what this is about? Is it an anniversary or something?” Anthony asked having gotten to know Dean pretty well at this point. 

“No, well, Yes,” Dean answered. “Next week would have been a year.” 

“Would have? Dean, now I don’t want you to do anything stupid. Should I call your brother?” 

“Nah, Sammy knows I’m here,” Dean says before taking another drink. “But, uh, Cas is back. But he’s not the same. He’s all panicked and won’t speak.” 

“He’s back? I thought he was killed in action.” Even when drunk, Dean knew not to spill what he believed. Anthony believed Dean was an honorably discharged soldier and Castiel was someone whom Dean lost overseas. 

“Guess we were wrong,” Dean blushed. Anthony was confused and wondered if Dean was having some sort of episode of PTSD or some kind of break. 

“Huh,” Anthony huffed before walking over to the bar’s phone. 

“Sam Winchester.” 

“Hey, Sam, this is Anthony from the bar. Uhm I think you may need to come and get Dean.” 

“He didn’t start a fight again, did he?” 

“No, I’m just concerned. He seems to believe Cas has come back to life.” 

“Oh yeah.” Sam tries to think of a lie. “Well, once someone has been MIA for long enough they are deemed dead and uh, they found him recently.” 

“So he really is back?” 

“Yeah, but his mind is all kinds of messed up. We think he had been tortured this past year.” There was a pregnant silence before Sam sighed into the receiver. “I should come get him before he drinks himself into a coma. Thanks, Ant.” 

Anthony hears the receiver click. He thought Dean had witnessed Cas’s death and that’s why he was discharged. Maybe he just saw him get captured? Dean only spoke whenever he was drunk, so there was a chance the stories had been fabricated or at least twisted in his mind. 

“Ant!” Dean calls out. “Can you top me off?” He taps his empty glass. 

“Sorry, Dean. You’re cut off for the night. Sam is heading over to pick you up right now,” Anthony explains. 

“Shit. You called Sammy?” Dean slurred. 

“You need to have someone take care of you, Dean.”

“Nah. I know how to handle myself. I’m not my father,” Dean huffed. Anthony had never heard Dean mention his father. He had heard his mother had died when he was young and he lived on the road with Sam but never mentioned his father, who apparently was an alcoholic. After some nonsense mumbling by Dean, the bell above the door rang, showing Sam and a young man next to him. 

“Dean?” The boy asked. 

“Shit, Sammy. Why did you bring Jack?” Dean complains. 

“Because you are on your best behavior when he is around and I wasn’t sure what version of you I would find,” Sam explains, earning an eye roll from Dean. Usually, when Sam had to come to get Dean from the bar, it was an extremely angry Dean who would fight Sam the whole way home, but sometimes, when Anthony is especially concerned like today, Sam would find a mopy Dean. 

“Thanks, Ant,” Dean huffed sarcastically slapping his money onto the table before Sam slipped Anthony a large tip. 

Dean stayed quiet the whole ride home, which was not an uncommon experience for Sam by now but Jack was getting antsy. 

“Dean, do you want me to remove the alcohol from your system?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Dean practically laughed at the statement. “I worked hard to get this kind of numbness.” Jack looked at Sam confused. Sam sent a mental prayer to Jack explaining that Dean had just enough alcohol to make him more honest than normal. Jack still didn’t understand but decided to drop it. 

They opened the bunker door to find that Castiel was not in the same spot he was when they left. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean said, stumbling down the stairs. 

“Not sure. Probably wandering around the bunker,” Sam responded, not showing Dean that he was worried that Cas wasn’t there. There was a clatter in the kitchen causing Dean to stick straight up, losing his buzz. He pulled his gun out and sneaked into the kitchen to find the angel on top of a counter holding random items from the kitchen. 

Dean just watched, not alerting the angel of his presence, as the angel sniffed all the items in his hand, deciding he didn’t want them he dropped them onto the floor, on top of other miscellaneous objects. 

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha looking for?” Dean said, slowly entering the kitchen. Big blue eyes blinked at him before the angel sniffed the air and hopped off the counter. The angel opened another cabinet gathering the items from inside it and scurried back towards the counter. He sniffed each item carefully before dropping all but one: a box of Cheerios. 

“What? You want cereal?” Dean asked again only receiving a stare before the angel disappeared with the sound of wings flapping behind him. 

“Shit,” Dean said before running back to the war room, where Sam and Jack were speaking in hushed tones. If Dean wasn’t in such a panic, he would have poked fun at them, but he had more important things on his mind. “Did you guys know that Cas’s wings work?” He breathed heavily. 

“Shit, no,” Sam says before standing up quickly. “Where do you think he went?” 

“How should I know? He was crawling around the kitchen like an animal, he found a box of cereal, then vanished,” Dean explained annoyed. 

“He’s still in the bunker,” Jack said with confidence. “I can feel him.” 

“I’ll start checking the bedrooms. Sam, you check libraries and hidden rooms behind them. Jack, you should probably get back to heaven in case he tries to flee there. The other angels are not a fan of him so we need to keep him safe,” Dean explained before taking off down the hallway. 

Opening every door behind him, he reaches his own room. He opens the door slowly, having a feeling Cas was in there. 

“Cas, buddy?” Dean says peaking his head into his room and being met with bright blue eyes. “Hey.” Dean smiles. The angel doesn’t flee but doesn’t come closer. “Do you want help?” Dean reached for the closed box of Cheerios, which now looked beaten up. The angel clutched the cereal close to himself, not wanting to lose his new possession. “I’ll give them back. I’ll just open them,” Dean says miming the motions. 

The angel looks at him, thinking about whether he should give Dean a chance. Slowly he sets the box down and slides it across the floor towards Dean, who opens it with ease. Dean poured the Cheerios into his hand before putting one into his mouth. He then held his hand out for Castiel to do the same. The angel stuck his tongue out like an animal before licking the Cheerios in Dean’s hand. Dean stood there frozen and unsure what to do before he heard Sam calling for him panicked. He put the Cheerios onto the floor and then walked out slowly, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door latched, Dean pulled his gun out and sprinted down the hallway. 

“Dean!” Sam called out again. Dean froze as he entered the room. Another figure stood in the library. 

“Don’t move,” Dean said aiming his weapon at the stranger. 

“Now, Dean,” Chuck’s voice came from behind Dean in the hallway. “Is that the best way of greeting dear old Dad?” 

(CH 2) ·:*¨༺ Father ༻¨*:·

“Chuck?” Dean turned around. “What are you doing here? You lost.” Dean demanded, aiming his gun at the man’s head. Chuck laughed. 

“I couldn’t give up on my story. So what my powers are dampened? I can do a few miracles here and there. My favorite pastime in waiting for my grace to recharge is writing my books. And no offense. You guys were getting boring. Yeah, you guys got Cas back, which, ugh,” Chuck rolls his eyes. “But I want something with more conflict. I don’t have enough grace to make a new monster, so I brought an old one back.” His grin was evil as he spoke. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Dean cut him off. 

“Look as much as I love a villain’s monologue, you are not welcome here. Get out. I’ll call Amara down,” Dean said flat. Chuck paled. 

“You don’t have access to her. You’re bluffing.” 

“Wanna test that theory?” Dean quipped back. Chuck huffed and disappeared. Dean rolled his eyes before turning back around, being reminded of the other intruder. “Sammy get down,” Dean said moving his aim back to the intruder. Sam stayed still. 

“Dad?” Sam whispered. Dean walked closer to the intruder, his aim not faltering. 

“Where the hell am I?” the unmistakable voice called out. “Dean, drop the damn gun and stop aiming at me like I’m some monster,” John commanded. Dean’s heartbeat quickened, but he didn’t drop his gun. 

“You’re not him. He died over a decade ago,” Dean barked. “What are you?” The man paused for a moment, eyes squinting and going back in forth between his two sons. 

“A decade?” He asks. 

“Sammy, get Jack.” 

“Who the hell is Jack? You got other hunters here?” John called out. Sam stayed frozen still staring at his father. “You going to keep staring at me or are you going to do what your brother asked you to do?” He barked at Sam, knocking him out of the trance he was in. 

Sam closed his eyes and started saying something under his breath that John couldn’t hear. 

“Have you lost your mind, boy?” John yelled again before a young boy walked into the room. His eyes glanced up toward him and Sam turned around mouthing thank you. 

“Is it him?” Sam breathed heavily. Jack nodded slowly. 

“He’s not a monster as far as I can tell. Nor angel, nor demon. He’s just a human,” Jack said quietly. After a pause, he walked up to Dean. “Dean, you can drop your gun. It is him.” 

Dean slowly lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. 

“You’re taking orders from some kid?” John asked. 

“God, please tell me I passed out at the bar and this is just some fucking nightmare,” Dean said running a hand over his face. 

“Dean this isn’t a dream,” Jack said matter of factly. “Did you find Cas?” 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says taking off back down the hallway. 

“You boys got a girl here?” John asked. Sam finally spoke to his father for the first time since he had appeared. 

“Uh, no. Cas is short for Castiel. He’s uh, Jack’s adoptive dad,” Sam says not meeting his father's eyes, knowing the moment he did, the rage would come out of both of them and they would start arguing. 

“What is he a queer or something?” His dad huffed. “That why he likes being called a girl’s name?” 

Sam ignored his father and turned to Jack who looked confused. “Hey, Jack, I think it’s time for you to leave again.”

“Why? I just got here?” Jack whined. 

“You remember how Dean was earlier today? At the bar? Well, he is probably going to be worse tonight. I don’t want you seeing that,” Sam said with a low voice. 

“You said I could help last time. You said he behaves better when I’m here,” Jack continued whining. You could hear John scoffing in the background, talking about the boys going soft on him. 

“Yeah, but that was about Cas. This one is-” Sam looked back at his father who was glaring at him. “Different. I’ll call you tomorrow if it’s uh, okay to come home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Jack sighed. Sam leaned in and whispered into Jack’s ear telling him to not fly until he was out of the bunker so as to not upset John. Jack moped the whole way out of the bunker, constantly looking back at Sam to change his mind, who just shook his head. 

“What the hell was that?” John yelled the moment the door closed. 

“Look can you just calm down?” Sam started. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but just give me a minute to think of what to do.” 

“Where did Dean go?” John asked, slightly calmer, but irritation still noticeable in his tone. 

“He’s taking care of Cas,” Sam sighed. 

“Oh, so your brother is taking care of a man who has a child that it seems like you are taking care of? I’d just kick him to the curb,” John snorts. 

“Well, Cas just, uh,” Sam thought of the lie he told the bartender and thought something similar would work. “Look, Cas just got back from the equivalent of being a POW and he is not doing well. He’s super skittish and won’t even talk to anyone right now. Dean is usually the one who gets through to Cas the fastest, so he’s taking care of him right now.” 

Sam watched as different thoughts went through his father's head before his face softened. It was something weird for Sam to see, who only saw his father’s stone-cold face. 

“He’s a veteran?” his father asked quietly. “I might be able to help. I had a rough time adjusting after Vietnam.” John had a faraway look in his eyes, like the one he would have had if he had mourned Mary properly.  He blinked then headed for the hallway Dean went down. 

“Dad, wait,” Sam grabbed his Dad’s arm. “Cas is, well, different. Things have changed a lot since you died. I just don’t want you to flip out when you see him.” 

“What, is he black or something? Sammy, that thing doesn’t matter to me. You’re acting like I died in the 60s,” his dad chuckled a bit. 

“Look,” Sam takes a deep breath. “Cas is an angel. Castiel is his full name. The ending is a part of his angel identity.”

“What is angel some way of saying he’s like slow or something?” His dad asks. 

“No, like Angel with a capital A. Warrior of God on wings.” 

“Angels aren’t real. I would have come across one by now,” John scoffed. 

“They hadn’t walked on earth in like a millennia before a few years ago. We’ve fought demons. How hard it is to believe the opposite of those exist?” Sam proposed. 

John sat and debated. He wondered if his sons had lost their minds or if some demon tricked them into taking care of it. John looked up as he heard a door close quietly and footsteps came down the hall. The look on his eldest son’s face was one of exhaustion. He no longer had the young, pretty face John had teased him about. He had the look of a man who had seen things no one should see. John felt slightly proud, thinking his son must have gotten that look by protecting people and killing monsters. 

“He’s sleeping, Sam,” Dean said not acknowledging their father’s presence. 

“Really?” Sam said surprised. 

“What, you two are surprised some traumatized man is sleeping?” Or demon pretending to sleep he thought to himself. 

“Sammy, I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t slept since Metatron,” Dean sighed, still ignoring his father. 

“He’ll bounce back. He always does,” Sam reassures Dean. 

“I need a drink,” Dean said. 

“Dean, come on. I need your head in the game,” Sam tried, but Dean kept walking towards the door. “This isn’t what Cas would want.” Sam used the “Cas Card” that he knew would stop Dean. 

“Fine. But I’m getting a beer. You want one?” Dean says towards their father. 

“Oh, so now you notice me. What’s so important about this Cas that you don’t acknowledge me?” John inquired. 

“So is that a no on the beer?” That is all Dean responded with. 

“What has gotten into you?” His dad barked at him. Dean just walked towards the kitchen and then came back with three beers. He sighed as he sat down across from his dad, sliding the beers over to Sammy, then John. 

Dean takes a long swing before asking, “What all does he know?” to Sam. 

“Nothing,” Sam shrugged. 

“What all could I have missed that I now know ‘nothing,’” John huffed. 

“So fucking much,” Dean signed before starting his story. 

(CH 3) ·:*¨༺ Are You Afraid of God? No, but I’m afraid of you ༻¨*:·

John sat there and surprisingly had no outbursts. 

“Then Chuck brought you back because he is bored,” Dean finished. 

“And Chuck is…”

“God, yeah,” Sam finished his dad’s sentence. They all sat there in silence before John huffed. 

“Bull,” Is all he said. 

“I wish,” Dean laughed. 

“You guys died like ten fucking times in that story. I don’t know who you boys think you are fooling with that nonsense. Like either one of you could survive Hell,” John raged. 

Dean just stood up and showed the handprint burned into his shoulder. “I’m going to go check on Cas again.” 

Sam looked at his phone for the 100th time during that conversation. 

“Oh, and Sammy? Just tell Eileen to come over. She might be able to help with Cas’s situation. Maybe he could sign to her or something,” Dean said walking off. 

“Eileen?” John raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, uh, we met on a hunt a while ago,” Sam started blushing, giving away his feelings for her. 

“A female hunter, huh? They sure are hard to get along with,” John laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you had plenty of experience with Mom,” Sam replied, instantly realizing what he had said. “I mean- uhm,” 

“What is that supposed to mean? Your mother had no idea,” John paused. “Wait. How did I not notice before? The necklace she wore, her parents always on deer hunts,” John started going through his relationship with Mary. “How did you know?” 

That was the question Sam dreaded hearing. How does he explain that Mary hates John for bringing her kids into this world? How does he explain that she’s off, hunting monsters?

“Sam. I asked you a question.” Sam looked like he was about to flee. “I know you are keeping something from me. Not a very good liar anymore, I see,” John whispered under his breath. 

“Hold on, let me make a phone call,” Sam jumped up and ran into the kitchen. 

“Pick up, Pick up, Pick up,” John could hear Sam saying as he snuck close to the kitchen. 

“Sam, what’s wrong?” John knew that voice. That voice was always in his head. 

“Something big happened,” Sam responded. 

“I heard from Jack. I know Cas is back,” John could hear Mary smile through the phone. “He and Dean talk yet?” John wants to know what Mary could be implying what John thinks she’s implying. That Cas must be some queer who’s been messing with Dean’s head. 

“Uh, no not yet. There have been some complications, but that’s not what I called about. Gosh, how do I say this?” Sam asks. 

“Usually using words,” Mary jokes, sounding worried. 

“Dad’s back.” 

“Oh.” John thought his wife might be more excited to hear he was back. “Do you know why? Did you check to make sure it was him? Jack wouldn’t do that would he?” John was getting worried. Mary sounded upset that he was alive. 

“Uh, no, Mom. Chuck brought him back. We had Jack check him out. He’s at the least human but we’ve been talking for a while and I know it’s Dad,” Sam explained. 

“Should I come back?” 

“After your hunt is finished. Don’t leave Garth hanging.” Mary was hunting? John was starting to almost panic. Who is this Garth guy? Did Mary replace him? 

“He sure is an oddball huh? Don’t know how his wife puts up with it,” Mary laughs. 

“Yeah, Give him a hug for me. It will make his day.”

“I’ll be back to the bunker soon. Bye, Sam,” 

“Bye, Mom.” 

John quickly rushed back to where he was sitting. Mary was alive. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to hear anything about her from Sam. He got up as Sam came out of the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“To talk to Dean,” John grumbled. 

“Look, I don’t think you’re ready to meet Cas. He definitely isn’t ready to meet anyone new,” Sam tried to explain but his father wasn’t listening. John just stomped down the hallway until he came across a door that had the words “DEAN’S ROOM” scribbled on in crayons with different stickers around the letters. 

John didn’t bother to knock, he just opened the door to see Dean cradling a man with wings, singing to him. Dean was in a whole other world, not noticing his father standing in the doorway. John didn’t know what made him angrier, seeing his son holding a monster or a man. 

“DEAN!” John boomed causing the angel to jump up and curl into the corner of the room, covering himself with his wings. 

“Shit. Didn’t we tell you he’s got something wrong with him? Why would you yell at him?” Dean got up into his father’s face. “Why didn’t you just fucking listen to me?” Dean pushed his father out of the room, following him out and closing the door behind him. Dean stormed away shaking with anger. He had just gotten Cas to finally calm down enough for Dean to be with him. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” John yelled after Dean. Dean turned around, gun touching his father’s head. 

“If you can’t quiet down, I will pull the trigger,” Dean threatened, clicking the safety off. 

“You aren’t man enough to do that,” John said in a low tone. 

“Then why are you whispering?” Dean said clicking the safety back onto his gun and putting it into the hem of his jeans. He sighed before turning back around to speak to his stunned father. “Look there is a shit tone of rooms you can stay in. If you plan on being loud, it can’t be in this hallway. I can’t risk it with Cas. Just don’t pick one that has a name on it. Jack will be upset.” 

“What about Mary’s room?” John huffed. Dean froze. 

“You saw that?” Dean itched his head. “I wouldn’t honestly. Jack is a weird kid and I don’t know how he will feel about you breaking “the room rules” as he calls it. Where is Jack anyway?” Dean glares down at his father. “You didn’t say any bullshit to him did you?” 

“Why would you think that? Sam is the one who kicked him out. Said something about you being a drunk,” John crossed his arms across his chest. Dean took a deep breath before closing his eyes and mumbling something. 

“I’m glad you’re okay!” The young boy appeared out of thin air and gave Dean a big hug. 

“Yeah, Jack. It’s getting late and my dad needs a room to sleep in. Will you pick a room and make him a sign?” Jack jumped up and down before running over and hugging John who couldn’t look more terrified. 

“I’m glad you are good like Mary! With some of the things Dad said, I thought you would be like my father,” Jack says before letting go and running down the hall to get art supplies. 

“You let a demon near Mary?” His dad growled. 

“Jack’s not a demon. He’s a Nephilim. Half angel half human.” Dean tried to explain. 

“Oh, so that makes it better? You are playing house with a couple of monsters.” 

“Things have changed a lot since you left,” Dean said

“So you keep saying.” 

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave okay? I’m dealing with too much right now to deal with your shit,” Dean sighed before walking towards the kitchen to grab another beer. 

“You got anything stronger than this shit beer?” John huffed after looking into the fridge. A look of shame appeared on Dean’s face for a split second that the only person who would have been able to catch it would have been Cas. 

“Ah, no. I wish. You will have to go to the bar about 20 minutes away. Closest one there is. Tell Anthony you want the Winchester special. He will give you something strong,” Dean chuckled slightly to himself. 

John and Dean sat in silence drinking their beers, anger radiating off of both of them. Finally, Dean gets up saying he’s going to bed. 

“With that monster in your room?” John scoffs. 

“Yep.” 

“You got nothing more to say for yourself?” 

“Nope.” Dean walked out of the kitchen, into his room, and locked the door behind him. “Hey, Cas.” 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated. Dean smiled down at the man he loved. 

“I’m going to bed. You need anything?” The angel shook his head. Dean was glad his dad’s outburst didn’t revert any of the progress he had made. “Do you want a pillow or, fuck it, you can climb into bed with me and sleep.” 

“No sleep,” Castiel croaked out, his voice scratchy. “Watch.” 

Dean smiled remembering the times he told Cas to stop doing that and now here he is, happy that he is doing it. “Night, Cas. I love you,” Dean whispered into the darkness. 

(CH 4) ·:*¨༺ Be Nice to Me ༻¨*:·

Mary arrives at the bunker in the early morning. She drove all night, as soon as she finished the hunt, to get home. She wasn’t surprised to see Dean working on his car and Sam leaving for a run. 

“Hey, Mom.” Dean smiled getting out from under the car. “Did Sammy tell you the news?” Mary just nodded before going in to hug her son. 

“You might want to go for a drive,” She whispered. “I doubt this will be pretty.” 

“I can’t. It’s not safe for Cas,” Dean explains. Mary nods understanding. “He’s messed up, mom. I know it’s only been a day out of the empty, but he’s never been like this. Not even when he took on Sam’s trauma from the Cage. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Stay. Be there for him. He will get better. Good things do happen,” Mary smiles. “Ready for the shit show?” 

They walked into the bunker finding John in the kitchen. John gasped and stood up to hug Mary, who slapped him across the face. 

“John Winchester. I did not sacrifice my life for you to take our children onto the road, teach them about the horrors of the hunter’s world, and abuse them. You were a great father. What the hell happened?” Mary yelled. John stood there stunned. 

“Mary, I did the best I could. I was a wreck after you died,” John tried to explain. 

“Yeah. Well now, so are your children. Both have gone to hell, Sam lost his soul at one point, Dean became a demon, and now I hear you are upset about the angel who just got back from the Empty, comply traumatized. What do you have to say for yourself?” Mary demanded. 

“Well that ‘angel’ over there is turning Dean into a queer,” John huffed as if that was some sort of defense. Mary stopped and turned to Dean. 

“You guys finally got together?” She gasped. Dean stood there pale. He didn’t tell anyone about Cas’s confession or his reciprocation of those feelings. 

“I-I- Uh, No. What do you mean finally?” Dean sputters. 

“Oh,” Mary says disappointed. “I thought-” She turned back over to John. 

“Those boys aren’t even together. What makes you say they are queer?” Mary asked John, disgust pointed towards him. 

“I saw Dean holding him,” John is turning red, embarrassed to be scolded by Mary. 

“He just came back to life! He’s been dead for a year! Can’t Dean miss someone? Can’t Dean comfort an upset friend without you getting your panties in a twist?” Mary yelled. “Apologize to Dean right now.” 

“Mary-” 

“Now.” 

“Dean, I’m sorry for being rude to your friend. Sam told me he was like a recently found POW and I proceeded to yell at him. I apologize.” 

Dean stood there in utter shock. He had never, ever seen John apologize for anything. He’d never seen anyone speak to him like that. Dean slowly nodded before leaving to go check on Cas. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said stepping into their room. 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated back. 

“You know, my name is Dean. Your name is Cas,” Dean let out a small laugh. 

“Dean,” the angel smiled. Dean’s heart fluttered hearing the familiar voice. Castiel walked over to Dean, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the bed. “Sit.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Dean joked as he sat down on top of the bed. Castiel sat at Dean's feet and then laid down. “You okay Cas?” 

“Dean. Watch. Cas. Sleep,” He said in his broken English. Dean smiled. 

“Okay, Cas. I’ll watch over you.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“What the hell was that all about?” John asked after Dean disappeared behind his door. 

“Look, John,” Mary sighs. “Everyone knows Dean and Cas are close. Everyone knows they have feelings for each other. Everyone except them. It was hard for me at first too. I mean, Castiel is an angel. Hard for me to adjust to the fact that Sam and Dean keep a few monsters alive because it benefits them in the long run, but the world is different now. AND. Cas makes Dean happier than I’ve ever seen him since I’ve been back.” 

“Dean’s never been a fag before. Why is he one now? Ever think that the angel is playing tricks on Dean’s brain?” John argued. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, John. I’ve seen Cas do things for Dean that I don’t think you would even do for me. How Dean hasn’t realized they have practically been in a committed relationship for a little less than a decade? I don’t know. But what I do know is that they are good for each other and as a mother, that's all I care about. It should have been what you cared about too.” Mary turns to leave the kitchen and go to her room. 

“Mary? Do you still love me?” John asks quietly. 

“I don't know John. You have done a lot of things I don’t know if I will be able to forgive.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Winchester Special,” John says to the bartender. 

“Dean, I already told you. You’re cut off-” Anthony turns around. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize other people ordered that.” 

“My son told me about it,” John frowns. Anthony turns around and mixes the bar's strongest whiskeys together. 

“So, what’s on your mind?” John shakes his head. “Nope. Part of the Winchester Special is you got to talk.” 

“And he does that?” John laughs. 

“Every time. Some people just need someone to talk to, and a strong drink,” Anthony winks. 

“Guess I don’t know my son at all. Never in a million years would I have thought he would spill his guts after one drink.” 

“Is Dean…?” Anthony pauses, not sure if it is a good idea to pry into Dean’s mysterious father. “Are you Dean’s dad?”  

“The one and only,” John huffs taking another swig. 

“You know yesterday, he mentioned you for the first time. I didn’t even know you were active in his life,” Anthony mumbles that last part. 

“I-I’m really not,” John says. “Saw him for the first time in over 10 years, yesterday. Looks like an entirely different person.” 

“Yeah well, war can do that to you. Did you meet Cas? I heard he just got back from a POW camp,” Anthony asks. John quickly caught onto Dean’s cover story. Maybe Dean was smarter than he thought. 

“Uh, Kinda. Got in trouble with the wife for not being kind enough. She yelled at me for being prejudiced,” John huffed again. “Back when I was in the military, we didn’t let sissies like him in. Now apparently he and my boy are together or some shit,” John shoots the last of his drink down and Anthony fills the cup back up. 

“Yeah, I kinda always assumed. The way Dean talks about him. It’s just very telling. I’m glad he’s back though. Dean hasn’t been here at all today.”

“He here often?” 

“Often enough to get a special,” Anthony replies. John thinks about that for a moment. After realizing that the bartender was proud of Dean for not being there just for the day, a thought popped into his head. 

“He here every day?” the bartender nods. 

“For almost a year. The anniversary of Cas, uh, going missing I guess, is coming up. I thought he had died by the way Dean spoke about him sacrificing his life for him, but I guess Dean just assumed he died.” 

“Sacrificing his life?” John asked. 

“Oh, if Dean was drunk enough he would talk about the moment it happened. It never made much sense, but he would always end up pissed about the event. I’d usually have to call his brother after that.” John nodded. 

“What did he say happened?” John asked. Maybe the bartender thought it was just nonsense, but maybe it was a supernatural event John could decode. 

“Oh, something about Death around the corner. Sometimes it was a woman around the corner, depending on the day. Then Cas pushed Dean out of the way, saving him. He says everything went black after that, and there wasn’t a body to bury. I kinda always assumed it was a bomb, but I don’t know.” 

“Huh,” John said. 

“Look, I wouldn’t bring it up to Dean. He always gets worked up about it and with him not going home drunk right now, I don’t want you to push him over. I know Sam won’t buy him any more liquor because I’ve heard Dean complain about it.” Anthony walks away after that, mid-speech to go help another customer. 

John leaves his cash on the counter and heads back to the bunker with a lot on his mind. 

(CH 5) ·:*¨༺ Alcoholics don’t get far unless they drink and drive  ༻¨*:·

John woke up with a headache. He checked the clock and it was later than he would ever let himself sleep. He stretched to get out of bed, hearing voices in the kitchen. 

Cas had been following Dean around since he got up. He no longer had his wings out, making him able to wear his trenchcoat again. He hadn’t said anything all morning, even though Dean was trying to coax words out of him. Mainly Cas just rolled his eyes, but there was this look in Dean’s eyes that just begged him to say something. Cas heard footsteps enter the kitchen. 

“Dean,” he says as the rest of the members at the table, Jack, Sam, Mary, Eileen, and Dean, all cheered. “Dean,” Cas repeated jutting his chin towards the door. The table turned and silence fell into the room. 

“Don’t stop celebrating on my account,” John mumbled. 

“John! John! Castiel just spoke! In front of all of us!” Jack was vibrating with excitement. “He’s getting better!” John just nodded and went over to the coffee machine. 

“No,” Cas said. John turned around, looking offended. 

“No what, Cas?” Dean asked softly. 

“No. Dean’s.” 

“What the coffee?” Dean clarified. He received a nod from the angel. “He can have some coffee. It’s okay, Cas.” Dean could tell Castiel said something, but couldn’t understand. 

“Castiel!” Jack gasped. Everyone’s attention went to Jack. 

“What? What did he say?” Dean asked a bit too excitedly. 

“Well, Enochian isn’t a perfect language and it’s hard to translate,” Jack responded. “But he pretty much said I don’t want the scum of the earth taking the gifts it serves.” Jack is met with more blank stares. “It’s an insult to your father,” Jack said quietly sinking into his chair. 

“Ohhh,” the whole table understood. 

“What’s his problem with me?” John asked. Sam and Dean made eye contact and tried to change the subject. 

“So, Cas can speak Enochian. Is he just struggling with English, you think?” Sam asked. 

“Hey, I asked a question,” John slammed his hand on the table. Castiel jumped up and pinned John against the wall. 

“Cas, get off of him,” Dean says with no urgency. Castiel just growled. 

“What is he some sort of guard dog?” John poked. 

“Cas, come on now. Dad’s trying his best. Let him down,” Dean tried again. 

“No.” 

“Why, Cas?” Dean asked annoyed, standing up to move the angel. 

“Protect.” John burst out laughing at the angel’s response. 

“Wow, you boys have gone soft. Need a monster to protect you?” John snapped. 

Dean just sighed. “Hey Cas? Look at Eileen,” Dean needed to get Cas’s attention somewhere else. Dean spelled “sign 4 me” to Eileen. She agreed with a nod. “Watch her hands Cas. John is not a danger. You can let him go. It is okay.” 

Cas watched intensely as Eileen signed what Dean had just said. Cas nodded and let go of John before wandering off. Dean signed thank you, sighed heavily, and then grabbed his mug. 

“I’ll go follow him. Make sure he’s not destroying another room.”

“Hey, Dean. What is your guard dog's problem with me?” John stood in front of Dean, blocking the doorway. 

“Look, you want to call him a dog fine. I’ll use dog terms. Cas is territorial and overly protective. Better?” Dean says taking another sip of his coffee. His dad moves out of the way. 

“I can never get a straight answer from that kid anymore,” John huffed. 

“Like father like son,”  Sam signed to Eileen, who laughed. 

“What? What did you say?” John asked sounding almost panicked. 

“Don’t worry about it, John. They have been doing that all morning,” Mary rolls her eyes before getting up to rinse her mug out. “No one knows what they are saying.” 

“I do,” Jack says causing Sam to get a bright pink blush across his face and Eileen to burst out into Laugher. 

“What did they say?” John asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“They said like father like son,” Jack signed as he spoke. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John turns to Sam. 

“Like you don’t remember that 90% of our arguments were because you wouldn’t give straight answers because everything was on a need-to-know basis,” Sam shrugs his shoulders. 

“Seems like Dean’s got a few things in common with me then. Talked to some guy named Anthony last night,” John lead. 

“Dad, Dean says a lot of stuff when he’s drunk. Don’t believe everything Ant says about him,” Sam sighs. 

“Wait, I thought you said when Dean gets drunk he is more likely to tell the truth?” Jack said confused. 

“Hey, Jack buddy. This is an adult conversation. Let’s go find Dean and your Dad,” Mary says calmly leading Jack out of the kitchen. Eileen followed them out, leaving just Sam and John in the kitchen. 

“Why did you tell me the same cover story that Dean told Anthony?” John asked. 

“I didn’t know what to say to describe what happened to him. The Empty is a hard thing to comprehend and we don’t know much about it,” Sam explained. 

“Well, try. I’m tired of being left out of things.” Sam scoffs again at his father. 

“Funny how things change,” Sam frowns. “Look the Empty is where angels go when they die. From how it has left Cas, clearly, it’s no heaven.” 

“Is it darkness?” John asked quietly. 

“What?” Sam replied. 

“Is it black? So black you can’t see?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you know that?” Sam asked. 

“That Anthony is a chatterbox. Careful what secrets you tell him.” With that, John stood up and left the kitchen. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

When John left the kitchen, everyone was in the library. He headed in that direction. I need Dean alone, without the angel. Dean was reading a book out loud, while Castiel sat next to him and listened. John could tell by the cover it was the Wizard of Oz. 

“Do you remember meeting Dorthy? Charlie had a thing for her,” Dean smiled fondly at the memory. 

“Who’s Charlie?” Jack asked. 

“Oh Jack, you would have loved her. She was like a little sister to me. She had fiery red hair and superhuman hacking skills,” Dean explained as if he were talking about a character from a story. “She loved to play pretend and one time made me and Sam play with her. She was a queen and we were knights.” 

“Saved Dean,” Castiel added on. 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said leaning his head up against the angel. “She did save me.” Dean picked the book back up and continued reading the story to Cas and Jack. It was such a domestic scene that John was observing. It made him angry that Dean was acting like this. John didn’t get to have this with his family, why should they? It wasn’t the life he had planned for Dean. Sam? Maybe, but he never would have imagined Dean to settle down. 

John took another step forward and Dean sat straight up, no longer laying on the angel, whose eyes were closed.  

“Dean. Lay.” Cas said without opening his eyes. Dean stared at his father before slowly laying back down on Castiel. John scoffed and walked away. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

John decided that the best way to get information out of Dean would be to get him drunk. He needed to hear it out of Dean’s mouth that he was in love with the angel and the angel wasn’t just forcing him with his powers. John left and drove almost an hour away from the bunker to a store. 

He bought his favorite whiskey. When checking out the cashier spoke to him. 

“Huh. Are you hanging out with Dean Mercury? He’s the only person who ever buys this stuff,” the cashier said. 

“Uh yeah. He’s my son,” John replied. 

“I can see the resemblance. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen him in some time.” 

“He’s doing well,” is all John says before snagging the whiskey from the cashier's hands as soon as he takes the cash. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

It was around 8 o'clock by the time John got home. Dean was still on the couch in the library reading, but the angel nor the kid was in sight. 

“Don’t let Sammy see that. He will make you take it back,” Dean huffed after seeing the bottle. 

“You wana drink?” John asks. Dean jumps up off the couch. 

“Let's go to the Dean cave,” Dean smirks. Finally, something he and his dad can’t argue on. Alcohol. Dean will put an old western on and they can just sit and be together. 

John followed behind Dean and closed the door behind him. Dean pulled a poster off the wall revealing alcohol and glasses. “Don’t tell Sam or I will shoot you,” Dean says. He set the glasses on the coffee table and started searching for the remote. 

“Must be nice to not have that angel breathing down your neck for a few minutes huh?” John tried to break this case open as fast as he could. 

“Nah. I don’t mind Cas being like that. I gave up years ago teaching him personal space. Even before the Empty, he was a weird guy.” John watched Dean smile to himself talking about the angel. “Aha! Found it!” Dean says finding the remote in the couch cushions. John starts pouring the whiskey into the glasses. 

“Woah, trying to get me drunk here old man?” Dean teased taking the nearly full glass and shooting it back like it was nothing. “Filler back up while I find a good movie.” Dean settled on the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly after scrolling through his recently watched which was full of mainly Cowboy movies with the occasional nature documentary (Thanks Cas). 

Not halfway through the movie, Dean had drunk enough to get his lips to unzip. “You know, every time I see one of those bars that have them lady’s who you know are hookers, it makes me think of Cas.” 

“Is that so?” John said pouring himself another drink as well as refilling Dean’s. 

“Yeah. I took him to this brothel one time. Hardest I had laughed in years. He was so awkward and uncomfortable it was hilarious,” Dean laughed. 

“What he not like women or something?” John pried. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Every time he’s shown any interest, it has been more out of curiosity. That’s at least how he explained hooking up with April.” Dean’s responses were rolling out of his mouth. 

“The angel hooked up with someone? Isn’t that a sin?” John asked trying to get more information. 

“Eh. He says the Bibles are full of inaccuracies. I remember him showing up in churches and criticizing priests who were condemning gay people to hell. Besides, April was out to kill him anyway.” 

“Do you think he might be a queer?” John asks. Dean stiffens up and takes another sip of his drink, eyes on the TV screen. 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I’d really rather not talk about this.” Dean gulps out of his glass. 

“Sorry, just trying to figure the guy out,” John said trying to get Dean to open back up. 

“Just ask me other things about him. Like, he won’t admit that he can’t taste my cooking, but he will always eat it and say it’s delicious. He is fascinated with nature even though he literally saw it get created. That’s what all those docs were. I let him pick movies sometimes. I know he doesn’t necessarily like the Westerns, but he will always watch them with me if I ask.” Dean smiles to himself. A goofy, lovesick smile. Anyone, even skeptical John, could see that Dean was in love with Cas. 

John leans back and stops filling Dean’s glass, suddenly feeling very guilty about prying into Dean and Cas’s lives. The angel would watch and eat things he knew Dean liked, just to make Dean happy. John remembered doing things like that for Mary. 

“What? You done drinking? We still got a quarter of the bottle left. Pass it over,” Dean said reaching over to grab the bottle. John hesitated thinking about what information he wanted, but also what the bartender said about Dean getting really upset. By the time John decided it was time to cut Dean off, Dean had grabbed the bottle and taken a large swig out of it. 

“Dean, you’re slurring your words. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” John started, feeling a weird pang of Deja Vu. 

“With the week we’ve been having? I’m surprised Sammy’s not dragging us both home from the bar. Well, Ant cut me off, but you know what I mean,” Dean responds before taking another swig. 

“Dean,” John said starting to see the effect he had on his son. 

“You know how we were talking about Cas? Did you know he came back to life the same fucking day you did?” Dean slurred. “I mean come on. It’s like Chuck doesn’t want us together. Well, I mean I know he doesn’t, but still. Can’t he just butt out?” 

John stayed quiet. He felt like Dean might be reaching the spot Anthony talked about. 

“I mean, he never said anything. Never. Not until Billy, I’m sorry Death, was banging on the door. You know I still haven’t stepped foot in that damn room? I can’t even walk past it without hearing his stupid fucking speech about being happy, just knowing me. ME. He killed himself for me. After we agreed not to do any more kamikaze shit,” Dean was now yelling at his father. “He made some stupid deal with the Empty and now he’s all kinds of fucked up. And you’re here, setting everyone on edge. I’m surprised Cas didn’t kill you. He hates you more than I do.” Dean laughed. 

John paused the movie. The reality of the situation came crashing down on top of him. John had gotten his son, who he knew was an alcoholic, drunk to get information out of him. What kind of a father was he? Dean still hadn’t stopped talking. 

“I mean, you sent me away to a boy’s home because I stole food because you didn’t leave us with enough money while you were playing house with Adam. You never left us with enough money. The shit I did to be able to just feed Sammy.” Dean’s eyes were red. 

“I fucking hate you. You know that? God, it took me so long to realize that. And I love you. That’s why you are here. With me and Sammy. You know I almost pulled the trigger that day? God, I was so pissed off at you and Chuck and the Empty and it would have been so easy. You wanna know why I didn’t shoot you? It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll tell you that. It’s because I didn’t want the gunshot to scare Cas. How fucked up is that?” Dean just kept rambling. 

John didn’t know what to do. He made a mistake. He’s made too many mistakes. He had to fix this. “Hey Jack, angel kiddo, whatever I should call you. Will you come to the ‘Dean cave’? I’ve really messed up.” Within seconds, Jack was in the room. He looked over at the empty whiskey bottle in Dean’s hand. 

“Jack, buddy what are you doing up? You know Cas wants you in bed before ten.” Jack walked over and tapped Dean’s forehead, putting him to sleep. 

“What did you just do?” John asked panicked. 

“He’s just sleeping. Where did he get this? Sam got rid of all the big bottles,” Jack observed. 

“I didn’t realize he was this bad,” Is all John said. John walked over and scooped Dean up into his arms like he did when Dean fell asleep watching cartoons in the old motels. John took Dean to his room and was slightly surprised to find the angel asleep on one side of the bed. John didn’t even mention it as he placed Dean down next to Cas watching as they moved closer to each other like magnets. Castiel grabbed Dean pulling their bodies together, fitting like puzzle pieces. 

John left the room, closing the door behind him. He went back and cleaned up the mess in the ‘Dean cave’ and turned off the TV. For the first time since Mary died, he cried. 

(CH 6) ·:*¨༺ I love the Idea of Places I’ll Never go ༻¨*:·

Dean woke up with a pounding headache. He didn’t even remember getting to bed last night, but he must have made some sort of advance on Cas since his arms were wrapped around Dean. 

“Morning, Cas,” Dean couldn't help but grin.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. Dean’s heart quickened. It was like old times. “You’re sick.” Cas moved his hand up to Dean’s forehead and removed the powerful hangover he had. “Better?” 

“Yeah, better. Thanks, Cas,” Dean’s grin got wider. Cas and him sat in the comfortable silence they always had just looking at each other. 

A knock at their door sent Cas back into a panicked state, pulling his wings back out. 

“Hey, Dean? You decent?” Sam calls into the door. 

“Uh, Yeah. Hold on.” Dean ran a hand over his face before getting out of bed to open the door. “What’s going on?” He asked. 

“Have you seen Dad? He’s not in his room, kitchen, library, or weaponry,” Sam explained. 

“Uh, check the ‘Dean Cave.’ We watched a movie there last night. Let me calm Cas back down, then I will head out,” Dean responded.  

Sam could smell the alcohol on Dean’s breath, but he didn’t seem hungover, so Sam decided not to bring it up. He walked down the hall towards the ‘Dean Cave’ and opened the door. His dad wasn’t there but there was a note taped to the couch. 

Dear Boys, 

I’m sorry for the way your life has turned out. I had some sort of realization last night and I don’t think I will be able to face you two again. Dean, I’m glad Cas makes you happy even if he’s a man. Sam, marry that Eileen girl. You’ve got a good thing going with her. You’re raising that kid well. He probably knows what I did and probably will tell you guys because somehow the Devil’s son is more honest than any of us Winchesters will ever be. 

Tell Mary I will always love her. 

J.W. 

“Oh, crap,” Sam says after reading. Sam runs back down the hallway to Dean’s room who is exiting with Cas who has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat, pulling it closer. “Dean. What the hell did you and Dad talk about last night?” 

Dean tried to remember through the whiskey’s haze. Cas just put two fingers to Dean’s head again, clearing his foggy memory. 

“Shit,” Dean whispered. 

“What?” Sam tried not to let his frustration through for fear of scaring Cas. 

“Look, you’re going to be pissed. Just a heads up,” Dean leads with. Sam just nods his head. “We shared a bottle of that cheap whiskey Dad always drank growing up. He, he got me talking. You know how I am. I wouldn’t shut up. God dammit. Jack saw some of it. I’m not sure how much he saw.” 

“Apparently enough to make Dad leave,” Sam says shoving the note towards Dean. Dean’s eyes flicker back through the letter. 

“Wait, this said Dad did something. I don’t remember him doing anything. I was the one who wouldn’t shut up.” 

Jack’s bedroom door creaked open. “I know what he did. He was radiating guilt when I walked in,” Jack whispered. 

“Jack. No.” Cas said. 

“What do you mean no, Cas? Why can’t we know what happened?” Dean huffed. Cas just shook his head. Jack now looked back in forth between the two brothers and his father. 

“They will be unhappy,” Cas finally croaked out a full sentence. 

“What, so you know what happened too?” Dean asked. Cas nodded his head. 

“Cas we are already unhappy. What’s the worst our Dad could have done that he hasn’t done before?” Sam asked looking over to Jack for the answer. Jack took a deep breath. 

“He got Dean drunk to test to see if Cas was controlling his mind and ended up getting a rant from Dean about how much he hates his Dad, saying the only reason he didn’t shoot him was because of Cas being skittish,” Jack said as fast as he could. 

“He what?” Sam said sounding angry while Dean just laughed. 

“Ah, I could have told y’all that,” Dean said. “Wasn’t the first time he did that shit. Not sure why this time me threatening him drunk made him apologize. Made him leave? Yeah, that happened almost every time. He’s never apologized before. That’s crazy,” Dean chuckled again. 

“He’s done that before?” Sam asked quietly. 

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy. Hardly the worst thing he did to us,” Dean smiled. 

“You’re not mad? How can you not be mad?” Sam could feel his anger bubbling up. 

“Cuz I told him the truth he didn’t want to hear. For some reason this time he actually believed it. Normally he would stomp out saying I was lying to make him feel like a horrible father. Maybe he just realized he was one.” Dean shrugged and walked away going to go get coffee. Cas followed behind quietly. 

“Morning, Eileen. Morning, Mom.” 

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Mary smiled. 

“Yeah, well Dad’s a dumbass who got his feelings hurt like a little kid,” Dean laughed. 

“Where is John?” Eileen signed and spoke. 

“He left,” Sam said walking into the kitchen. 

The bunker lights started flickering. Cas brought his wings out and produced an Angel Blade. 

“Cas?” Dean asked. 

“This was not how it was supposed to go!” Chuck yelled appearing in the middle of the kitchen. He snapped and brought a drunken John into the kitchen. “He was supposed to break up you two idiots. Kill Cas or something. Maybe even kill one of you. Come on! This was not the John Winchester who raised you two!” 

“Yeah, well this John has Mary,” Dean shrugged. “Dad was different when Mary was alive.” He took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. 

“You should be scared of him!” Chuck yelled. 

“Yeah, no offense Chucky Cheese, but you sent me to hell if I remember correctly. You had me bear the Mark of Cain, don’t ask,” Dean said turning to his Dad, who hadn’t heard that part of the story. “You had me help raise the kid of the Devil, who killed Cas. Then almost had me kill him. That’s not even covering everything, Chuck. My dad is nothing compared to defeating a literal God.” 

Jack steps foot into the kitchen. “Hey, you are not supposed to be here,” Jack observed. “Should I call Aunty Amara?” 

“Let’s leave Amara out of this, kid. This doesn’t concern her,” Chuck said. 

“Yeah, she won’t be mad you are hurting Dean Winchester. Her savior. The man who helped her reunite with her crappy brother. The man who broke her out of the cage she was in,” Sam scoffed. 

“You know what?” Chuck snapped, their Dad becoming sober. “Just finish this out.” Chuck disappeared after that. 

“What’s going on?” John asks getting up off the floor. 

“You’re leaving?” Jack asked looking at the note that was left on the table. 

“Come on Dad, you’re going to make the kid cry if you leave,” Dean branches out. 

“I just don’t know what to say,” John sighed quietly. 

“Then don’t say anything. Grab a gun and go shoot something. We got a range down here and you are probably rusty after 10 years.” Dean said leaving the kitchen with Cas following behind him. “Cas if you are coming with, you will have to tuck those wings in. Let’s not break them again.” 

“Bullets do not hurt me, Dean,” Cas scoffed. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean smiled and slipped his hand into Cas’s. 

“I wouldn't follow them,” Sam said at the same time Mary did. 

“Why not?” John said panicked. 

“I’ve been trying to get them to get rid of that damn tension for over 10 years now. I would not want to be there if it’s starting to break. If you understand?” Sam explains getting a slow nod from John who is pale. 

“You know I don’t like the idea of a monster and a human together,” John huffed. 

“Yeah well, you would if you’ve been the third wheel to their stares that last all a bit too long,” Sam laughed. 

“I’m not sure I understand?” Jack says. 

“You haven’t had ‘the talk’ with the boy yet? What is he 20?” John asks. 

“I’m four. What talk?” Jack says. 

“He’s four?” John asks. 

“Yeah, he grew rapidly. Honestly, I’m not sure if he knows or not,” Sam explains. 

“Know what? Stop talking like I’m not here!” Jack pouts. 

“Jack, you know how Dean tried to get Cas to hook up with that waitress?” Sam asks, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah. Dean had sex with a lot of waitresses.” Mary choked her coffee hearing that response. 

“Yeah okay,” Sam says. He takes another breath in preparing himself. “Dean and Cas are probably going to start doing that soon.” 

“They haven’t already?” Jack asks getting a laugh out of Sam. 

“Nope not yet.” 

“But they sleep in the same room,” Jack observed. Mary got up and left, done with the awkwardness in the room. John would have followed if he wasn’t frozen in place. 

“Yeah, Jack. Dean and Cas are a little confusing.” Sam explains. 

“So are they not married?” Jack asks confused. John looks like he wants to flee and wishes he could be like Eileen, who has her nose in a book ignoring everything. 

“What gave you the impression they were married?” Sam asked. 

“Cas wears a wedding band. So does Dean.” 

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well the band Dean wears is technically a wedding band, but he wears it on his right. It was our Dad’s before he died. And, uh, you remember how Clair is kinda your sister?” 

“Yeah, because of Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy.”

“He is possessing some guy?!” John roars. 

“Dad, chill. Jimmy hasn’t been in the vessel since I was in the cage.” Sam brings his attention back to Jack. “Well, Jimmy was married. I guess Cas never took it off. He tries to take care of the vessel to honor Jimmy.”

“Oh. Well, when will they get married?” Jack’s naivety can be frustrating at some points, even if it can be endearing. 

“I’m not sure, Jack. Those things take time.” Sam smiles down at the Nephilim.

(CH 7) ·:*¨༺ I am Happy to be bonding in the Kitchen with my Friends ༻¨*:· 

Cas is getting better every day. It’s been about a month since he was brought back and he is significantly better than the day he came back. He still has moments where he won’t speak and becomes skittish, but they are less frequent. 

Dean gets better as Cas gets better. They have been much more affectionate than they have ever been. John is still clearly uncomfortable and sometimes scoffs and leaves the room when they show too much affection, but he tries to keep it to himself since every time he says something Mary threatens him. 

John starts to get to know his sons for the first time. He always knew that Sam was smart, but he also had a knack for witchcraft (another thing both John, Mary, and Dean all had to get used to). Dean, still strong with almost perfect aim, is incredibly intelligent. He knows about classic literature and can read multiple languages. 

John tries to get to know Castiel, but Castiel seems to be less forgiving than Sam and Dean. If Dean is in the room, he will say very few words to John, all of them generally polite. If it is just John and Cas, he threatens John with one wrong move and he will smite him without hesitation. 

Mary and John are starting to bond once more, but may never love each other the same way they did. John is trying to adjust to the idea of Hunter Mary and not Housewife Mary. He finds comfort in the fact that it also took Dean quite a long time to adjust. 

John is slowly adjusting to the new world he is in. New tools, weapons, and gadgets are easier to accept than the new allies the brothers have. Witches, demons, Vampires, Werewolves, etc. Apparently, the hunter Mary was hunting with was a Werewolf, who was hunting down other Werewolves who were hurting people. 

Even with all these changes, John is happy to be home with his boys.